


Firewall vs. Happiness

by dragonNMR, Secretsivekept



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gristle Jr./Bridget, Guy/Suki, M/M, Original Character(s), Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-10-22 01:35:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10687074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonNMR/pseuds/dragonNMR, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secretsivekept/pseuds/Secretsivekept
Summary: Branch B. Oak hates mostly everything about his life circumstances. Son of a famous technological genius and one of his heirs to the family fortune, he's been working most of his life to tear away from the family name. Everything seemed to be going according to plan even with the meddling of his older brother. College and living alone are long old routines but his entire world comes crashing down when his childhood friend and crush moves in next door to start her first year of college and independent living.Now, Poppy Corona, heiress of her own father's company and fortune and rising star with her band the Snack Pack, has never hidden from the world. With her comes an entire new company of trouble for Branch that dares to uncover his identity and secrets. And too close to home comes trouble in the form of Creek who has his own agenda to complete as he tries to snatch one of the richest people he knows for himself by any means necessary. If that wasn't enough along with unwanted heartthrob, there is a cannibal serial killer on the lose preying specifically on Troll University students!





	1. The Nightmare next Door

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Troll Epic (To Be or Not to Be)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9942713) by [dragonNMR](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonNMR/pseuds/dragonNMR). 



> Welcome to a Human- AU instigated by TiPoLover_22 and Secretsivekept to bury me deeper in this fandom and encouraged by some fans. *sigh* Inspiration goes to bubba's wonderful story "A Little Change" and Tipo and Secret for making me fall in love with the Human-AU potential of Trolls as we chatted about the stories we wanted to write in this realm. Personally, I think it was sabotage and now this story exists. Credits and thanks to Tipo, Secret and my best friend Inky who bounced off ideas for this story!
> 
> Also, Secret and I are working on another AU that has some parallels to this story AU that I hope you guys will check out when we post it!
> 
> For those of you unaware this story will have original characters from my previous story "A Troll Epic," including Branch's family: his father and brother mainly. And for those of you that are fans of Throse, yes that is in here too!
> 
>  **Warning:** Yes, this story will have sex involved, both pleasant and unpleasant but it isn't the focus of the story. I will put warnings so you can scroll past it if you want though, it won't be for a while yet however. I don't typically sugar coat most of my stories and I explore everything about human interaction even the unpleasant and ugly, sorry. Those of you familiar with the angst I've written shouldn't be surprised and you know what to expect. I can be exceedingly explicit, graphic, and detailed and I will not be curbing my style for this story in particular as I did with my previous. It is still very much a romance story but it is aimed for an adult audience. You've been warned!

* * *

 

Sharp. Bitter. Strong.

Some would say that was the brewing scent of coffee wafting into the air, breathing the heady and enchanting scent of the Caribbean or some other far flung island on some distant corner of the earth. Probably some kind of romantic notion that the smell could take them there with just a lungful of air mixed with the ground black beans in their brewer.

It was bullshit.

It was just coffee, espresso to boot. The sharp, bitter, strong smell and quiet gurgling of the machine that woke Branch almost every morning with a headache as it mixed with the smell of lavender. The smell was noxiously disgusting. It sure as hell didn’t take him to some island in the Pacific or anywhere else for that matter.

Why the fuck did he still have that plant Creek had given him? He despised the little potted shrub with its ostentatious purple blossoms on the island counter of his kitchen in his studio apartment as he opened his eyes.

He remembered it was some crap about how the scent of lavender was supposed to have a calming effect and even soothe anxiety and fatigue. But just smelling the bloody thing perfuming the air and just turning his head from where he lied in his bed to look at the damn thing…aggravated Branch to no end.

He still couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t thrown the thing out the window after Creek had given him the “housewarming gift” all those years ago with that disconcerting smile on his face. It probably had to with the girl that had been hugging his arm like a damn kindergartener with the kind of smile that made Branch feel like crap just for considering even for a moment to toss the damn plant out.

If she didn’t forcefully visit so often he might have been able to get away with chucking the plant into the garbage. But that wasn’t the case and the moment she barged in uninvited into his small home she would realize in an instant it was missing. And no matter how many times he tried to kill it by not watering it, Poppy would come save the damn thing.

She was a fucking nightmare.

The nuisance that hadn’t left him alone since they were children even after he had pushed everyone away in middle school, even after he had started snapping at her harshly. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, it didn’t stop Poppy from trying to socialize with him.

Drearily he reached over to his nightstand and plucked up the latest uPhone and glared momentarily at the silvery oak tree symbol on the back of the black phone before flipping it over and tapping the screen with his thumb.

Bright colors washed into existence and illuminated the time, date, and temperature.

Zero messages. Why did that surprise him and yet not in the least?

Poppy hadn’t bothered him in three months since her high school graduation and gone off to some summer bash with her friends.

He unlocked the screen and clicked on the messages finding Poppy’s name quickly on the top. The last picture message was still there, her clambering with her friends for a group selfie as they got off the plane. Her big smile and text that followed: ‘We just got to Hawaii! Wish you were here!’

 _Yeah, fucking right._ He thought to himself as closed the message.

Three months of peace. Three months of lonely peace for Branch.

…

Why did it **not** feel peaceful at all?

Of course she had invited him to come along with them to Hawaii and he had flat out laughed at the idea, bringing her to the verge of tears as usual. He knew she knew he was an ass, yet…why didn’t it stop her? When would she finally see she should just leave him alone? That he was a hopeless case?

Maybe she had, maybe that’s why she hadn’t texted him back again after flaunting that picture message. Maybe it was that last snarky phrase she would hand his way before cutting ties for good…

He hated the idea while another side of his mind warred that the eternally optimistic Poppy wouldn’t do that to him. It brought a pit to his stomach and dread in his guts.

Branch groaned and sat up, the sheets tumbling off his half naked form. It was hot in Bergen Town even with air-conditioning. Even sleeping in just a pair of slacks felt like he might roast alive in the dying summer heat as autumn took its time to settle in.

He wanted to yank out locks of his raven black hair as he thought of the girl, as she pestered his waking moments as he thought of her. Maybe if she was finally able to push him away he could finally forget her and stop loving her…

He snorted with derision, running a hand through his bedhead.

_Like that’s ever going to fucking happen._

He had been in love with her for years, no mere crush would have lasted this long. He thought distance would have helped especially when they didn’t have to bump into each other every day in high school but it only made the sensation keener. Every day she wormed into his thoughts without even trying, burrowing deeper like a parasite and made it worse when her physical presence decided to pay a visit, fueling her secondary existence already tormenting his brain. Being in college long before her didn’t stop her from dropping in to check on him and forcing him to be her tutor on more than one occasion.

Quiet knocking echoed into the small box apartment and his blue glare turned to the short little hallway and the door he could see from his bed.

His heart nearly skipped a beat.

Was Poppy finally back?

Anxiety clawed at him and caught his breath painfully in his chest with something almost akin to excitement. He tried to deny it.

Since she hadn’t texted him since she had arrived in Hawaii, the waiting and worrying was killing him. Probably why the past three months hadn’t been peaceful either, not since the last picture message she had sent and the few messages he had tried to send back but always chickened out before he could hit send.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for her to knock on his door this entire week.

The new fall semester was starting on Monday and he hadn’t forgotten her excited text message about being accepted into T.T. University, the most prestigious university in Bergen Town with the weirdest name around. Like the town’s name was any better.

He tossed the sheets aside and slipped off the bed almost a little too exhilarated. He didn’t bother grabbing a shirt, even as he passed one draped over the couch some feet away from the foot of his bed. Anyone at his door this early in the morning could just deal with his damn half nakedness. It was too fucking hot anyways and it was nothing Poppy hadn’t bargained in on before.

Rushing for the door he forgot to look through the peephole as he unlocked the deadbolt locks, three in total and opened the door. The warm air of summer brushed over his chest like a cascade and kissed the sweat, making him shiver for a moment.

“Wow, you actually answered the door this time?”

Branch scowled at the sight of tall man at his doorway.

He was taller than Branch, at least six foot, which made him two inches taller than Branch. Raven black hair that was more like jet onyx that gleamed in the sunlight, neatly combed but spiking and stylized in the front. Sharp blue eyes that popped on his tanned face accompanying one of those chiseled jaws and high cheekbones that all the girls loved, especially when that attractive face sat atop a burly body covered with a clean black fitted button down shirt with long sleeves that seemed to hug his biceps on purpose. The last two buttons of the shirt were conveniently open to reveal the lean line of his collarbone and the muscles that rippled to his chest. Tan slacks and black shoes and belt finished the deal.

Branch hated the sight of his older brother, especially this fucking early in the morning.

“What the hell do you want, Thistle?”

“You look disappointed, Branch,” he mused with that husky voice of his. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No,” Branch bit out starting to close the door.

“I brought you breakfast,” he cut in shoving the paper bag and his arm through the doorway and shaking it in the air. “It’s your favorite…” he tempted with a low voice.

Thistle stared at his little brother through the cracked door as he froze and stared at the bag in contemplation. A smirk started to pull at Thistle’s lips as he saw victory approaching.

Branch groaned and rolled his eyes, opening the door to let him in.

“Hurry up. You’re letting all the cold air get out.”

Thistle grinned and marched in without a word. He paused just a few paces and frowned in concern as he looked into the studio apartment. Branch locked the door and glanced at the blinking red light of the fire alarm on the ceiling.

“You’re…a little messier than usual,” Thistle mused as he saw the apartment in disarray.

_A little?!_

Branch was usually an organized neat freak with everything placed down to the wire and Thistle knew this. So if there was a mess then something was definitely wrong.

Today, there were clothes everywhere and the computer desk was a mess with computer parts and papers strewn over the surface with tools and books open. The entire scene probably accurately reflected Branch’s current state of mind.

“If it bothers you then get the fuck out,” Branch snapped pushing past his brother and back into the main room.

The cold floor felt perfect to Branch’s bare feet but he quietly admitted to himself that he needed to vacuum as he felt dust and dirt press into the soles of his feet. He needed to clean period. It was getting out of hand.

“I didn’t say it bothered me, Branch,” he muttered back. “You sure woke up in a bad mood today. I haven’t seen you in three weeks, what’s wrong?”

“Why do you think something always has to be fucking wrong with me?” Branch asked as he walked into the kitchen and pulled out a clean mug from the cabinet. “Want coffee?”

“Naw, you make it too strong,” Thistle answered putting the paper bag on the island counter and pulled out a chair.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“That’s fine. I like it weaker,” Thistle replied calmly.

Branch snorted and tipped the glass coffee pot as he served himself. Thistle sure seemed to be in a good mood this day.

“Why are you here?” Branch finally asked, turning around and leaning against the counter as he lifted the cup to his face. He paused, letting the steam rise to his nose and overpower the foul smell of lavender so close by.

“Do I need a reason to visit my little brother?” Thistle asked with a frown, shrugging his broad shoulders.

“Yes,” Branch growled back not buying the nonsense. He knew his personality was nothing glowing and wonderful that others willingly came seeking out. Except for Poppy who seemed too naïve to grasp half of his sarcasm.

Thistle sighed, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, I just came to check on you. Father’s been worried.”

“Ha!” Branch laughed suddenly slapping the mug down and coffee splattered, steaming droplets hitting his skin and making him tense and yank his hand back. “Since when is dad worried about either of us?”

“He’s always been worried,” Thistle countered weakly.

“Oh yeah, like last year when you got hospitalized for almost a month? He must have been fucking invisible because the only people I ever saw there were me, Carter, and Rose,” he said with dripping sarcasm.

Thistle scowled and his brow knitted together, his fists balling up as he looked down at the counter and took a deep breath through his nose. Absently his right hand went up and touched his left shoulder.

“Oh, and let’s not forget how worried dad was when he let me move out at fourteen after grandma died. You sure as hell didn’t see him complaining. Heck, he was more than happy to see me walk out and even offering to pay the rent. The concern was overflowing!”

“Alright, I get it, Branch,” Thistle growled back finally losing his patience.

Branch fell silent as Thistle shook his head and let out a heavy sigh.

“Alright. I’m the one that’s worried, alright? Or do you want to be sarcastic about that too?” Thistle asked shooting a glare Branch’s way.

Branch relaxed and finally something like guilt took his face. He absently rubbed his hand where the hot liquid had hit his skin before picking up his mug again and blowing on the black drink before taking a sip.

“I’m fine, Thistle,” he managed to say evenly a moment later after swallowing.

“Oh, I can see that,” Thistle replied with snark.

“I am,” Branch argued with a shrug. “My junior year of college is starting on Monday. I have a full schedule and work is fine at the tech support center… _Everything is fine_ ,” he repeated like he was trying to convince someone and his voice wasn’t all that convincing. In fact, the lack of conviction left something to be desired.

Of course nothing was fine! Not if he couldn’t get a certain damn pink haired girl out of his head! When would anything ever be fine till then?

Did her plane crash somewhere in the ocean? Of course not, he’d been keeping up with the news just in case. Her fans would be all over that tragedy too in a heartbeat. There had been status updates on their social media about their trip, meeting fans, having some one-shot concerts…so he could assume she was mostly fine. Not that he’d been keeping track like the paranoid person he was. Not like he cared…

Thistle didn’t look convinced as he quietly watched emotions he was all too familiar with play across Branch’s usually serious face. “Still haven’t heard from Poppy, have you?”

Branch glowered, a bit surprised as he raised an eyebrow and glared at his brother with his mouth suddenly pinched shut. Was he really that easy to read?

“You know she probably lost her phone, again. That’s probably all it is. You should stop worrying so much. You’re going to get wrinkles before me.”

Apparently, Branch was that easy to read.

Branch snorted with denial and didn’t reply as he took another sip, the hot liquid burning his throat and seeping into his chest, spreading undesired heat into his body. Damn, if only it didn’t wake him up in the morning with its bitter taste on his taste buds sending shocking clarity into his skull.

“Why are you still working at the tech support center?” Thistle abruptly changed the subject knowing full well his brother wasn’t going to answer the last observation. “You don’t need to, father pays for everything. You have a bank account that’s practically overflowing and you can get whatever you want. And you always bitch about how stupid people are in tech.”

“That’s because they are,” Branch muttered condescendingly as he glared at his cup.

“Branch, you think most people are idiots.”

 _True._ Branch shrugged. “You know I don’t like dad paying for everything. I don’t care how fucking rich he is, spoiling us doesn’t make up for his absence. I rather work for some of my cash and not be completely freaking indebted to him.”

Thistle snorted and rolled his eyes, he understood Branch’s anger but he couldn’t help opening his mouth. “Just accept the goddamn money, Branch. It’s not like he has a bill lined up for us to pay him back. He always said the company would be ours no matter what in the end.”

“You can keep the company,” Branch brushed off. “After I finish and sell my new security system I won’t need any more hand-me-downs. I can just cut myself off completely.”

Thistle frowned deeply. “And if I don’t want that? If I don’t want to cut you off?”

Branch shrugged. “Too fucking bad.”

Thistle rolled his eyes. “You can be so stubborn,” he sighed. Branch didn’t reply as he took his time finishing his coffee. “I guess I’ll just have to be the one to buy your system,” Thistle smirked. “Then you’ll be stuck with us.”

Branch laughed. “As if I’m going to sell it to you even if you own the company, you dumbass.”

“I’ll make the highest bid,” Thistle grinned.

“The point is to _not_ sell it to dad’s company,” Branch smirked back. “Unless you think you can trick me.”

“I’ll find a way,” Thistle promised still smiling.

Branch snorted amused and rolled his eyes. “I’d like to see you fucking try.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” Thistle grinned.

Branch only smiled and took another sip of coffee, feeling it scald against his tongue as he forgot to blow on it but ignored the mild and temporary pain.

Branch looked around the room and every object that reminded him of father’s multi-billion dollar power that loomed over him and shadowed his life. Oak Inc. … Producers of the in demand uPhones, the always innovative Acor computers, music players, closed source computer operating systems…there was literally nothing in the computer and media industry that didn’t have some of its stock owned by Oak Inc.

President and CEO, Mr. Oak was often dubbed the “King” of the modern tech world and innovate solutions to the progress of technology. It was a miracle that Oak was such a mundane last name that Branch could mostly escape the shadow of his legacy anywhere he went and just blend in. Everywhere but his apartment which had too many rich items lying about, even the damn furniture. Only his clothes were decent and normal, even ratty sometimes since he had direct control over that compared to the furnishing that came with the studio.

Of course, he couldn’t escape his legacy where it counted which was something he had learned to live with. Just like his father and brother, he had a knack for computers and code. A gift really, not that he was arrogant but he was a genius in the field.

In fact, college Computer Science was too easy to be any kind of challenge even as he double majored in Computer Engineering.  It felt like child’s play.

“How is that going anyways?” Thistle suddenly asked, breaking Branch from his thoughts.

Branch tilted his mug and realized it was empty and set it down.

“The security system? Fine. I’ll show you after I patch up the latest IP routing protocol if you want. Dealing with some bugs in the firewall…” he paused as he said the last word and turned to look at the fire extinguisher next to the stove, pinned against the wall by steel brackets.

Thistle didn’t miss the look and the growing tension in his little brother and acted.

“Eat your breakfast before it gets cold,” Thistle said, distracting Branch as the sound of the paper bag moved across the island’s marble surface closer to him.

Branch turned to the mysterious paper bag and noticed the logo of his favorite fast-food restaurant, Grabble & Grum’s.

Walking around the island he pulled up the other stool and sat down. Now the lavender plant was obnoxiously close to his right, almost touching his arm. Why did his brother have to be so damn broad in frame? He practically took up at least half the space on the island’s counter with just his arms folded on the surface to Branch’s left. Their arms were an inch apart from touching but Branch ignored the proximity and the plant as he pulled up the bag and tried to pretend his personal space wasn’t being invaded.

“Thanks,” he muttered not all unfriendly. “Now I have to jog an extra mile today.”

“Well at least you’re keeping yourself in shape,” Thistle pointed out poking at the abs by Branch’s ribs, only for Branch to smack his hand away. “I was worried you’d let yourself get fat constantly sitting around like most of the computer nerds end up. Can you imagine that? We already have big noses. You should really come and work out with me in the gym instead of by yourself.”

Branch snorted at the idea as he unwrapped the burrito of its foil and was assaulted by the smell of eggs, bacon, and chorizo with cheese.

As if Branch was going to allow anything to reduce his life expectancy and ability to survive like sitting around like a coach potato, although this particular greasy burrito wasn’t improving his chances. At least he didn’t eat this sort of junk too often. He preferred cooking his own balanced meals.

He also sure as hell wasn’t going to a gym either filled with sweaty strangers and his brother knew it.

“Still not using the car?” Thistle asked absently, changing the subject again to move along the awkward silence that happened so often with Branch.

“You know the damn answer, Thistle,” Branch grumbled before taking a bite of the food.

“You just let it rot in the garage. It’s a real shame for a nice sports car,” Thistle sighed gloomily as he imaged it unloved and unappreciated. “I’ll take it out right now for a spin. Don’t want the tires to rot and the battery to discharge or the gas to gunk up. Never know when you might need it.”

“Knock yourself out,” Branch shrugged talking past the mouthful he was chewing. If Thistle hadn’t dragged him into it, Branch probably wouldn’t even have a driver’s license. He mostly walked everywhere or took his bike.

“Hey, that apartment next door has been empty for a while now. Do you think you’re going to get a new neighbor soon?”

“Do I look like I care?” Branch retorted putting the burrito down and standing up to get more coffee and space, his brother was like a damn radiator. “So long as they aren’t loud and don’t fucking bother me I don’t give a shit who moves in.”

“You’re a really shitty neighbor,” Thistle chuckled as his blue eyes lazily tracked his brother’s movements. “I feel bad for the sap. Probably will be too scared to come over and ask for a cup of sugar. I bet you’d turn them down even if it was a girl and she was offering _you_ sugar. And I don’t mean the kind for your coffee,” he teased holding down a laugh.

Branch jeered, shooting a somewhat disgusted glare at his brother at the implication. He grabbed his cup and the coffee pot once again from the brewing machine keeping it hot. He needed to remember to unplug it after this.

He could hear Thistle starting to chuckle in the background at his own dirty joke and boy, did it irritate Branch.

“I wouldn’t mind if it’s Rose,” Branch said suddenly and turned around to face Thistle and he was grinning wickedly as his older brother tensed. “I don’t think I’d mind _her_ sugar.”

It worked.

Maybe a little too well.

Thistle tensed up and his blue gaze became blazing and foul, even a vein bulging at the right side of his temple as he gritted his teeth in a frightening scowl.

“She would punch your guts in if she heard that,” Thistle growled slowly.

Branch smirked. It was a little too fucking easy to tease his brother when it came to Rose. “She’s not here to hear though, is she? What? Did you finally fucking ask her out?”

Thistle huffed, his hands pressing hard against the marble counter till the bones of his hands nearly popped out from under his skin, taunt and going pale white and it was obvious he was trying to restrain himself from launching himself up. Branch knew he had crossed the line and if he didn’t fix it he’d end up getting punched any second now.

“I’m fucking joking, Theodore, lighten up,” Branch jested switching his brother’s rage like a switch he could play with.

“You know I fucking hate that name, Branch!” he suddenly snapped, gritting his teeth and his right fist slammed down against the counter with a loud bang.

His brother really hated his real name, just like Branch hated his own. It was an easy trump card.

Branch watched on impassively for a moment, keeping his cool despite the sense of danger climbing up his spine. He knew his brother would never really hurt him but it was like poking a lion with a stick: it was just a plain bad idea and likely to end with a good mauling anyways.

“But now you’re not thinking about hitting me for talking about Rose, right?”

Thistle stiffened and stared as he realized he’d been played. He suddenly slumped, relaxing and let out an aggravated laugh. “You really are a pain in the ass, Branch.”

“And yet you keep visiting me like a damn idiot,” Branch smirked, relaxing too.

“Yeah, well what do you expect? You’re my damn little brother even if you are a royal fucking pain sometimes,” he said with some fondness Branch found to be quite unexpected.

Branch remained silent, frowning as he felt unworthy of his brother’s concern and love only for him to deal with Branch’s shitty attitude every time he visited. But Branch had been like this since…

“Well, I have to go soon. Have a meeting with the board of directors later today with father,” Thistle mentioned absently, breaking the silence once again.

Branch turned back around and poured his coffee and didn’t look back.

“When’s the last time you talked with him?”

“Last week we had a lunch meeting with a company director from Japan,” Thistle answered quietly.

“You know that’s not what I fucking mean, Thistle.”

Branch emptied the pot and placed it back in the brewer, then unplugged the machine from the wall.

“What can I say, Branch? You know how father is. He’s always fucking busy. Has he ever had a real conversation with us before mom died?” he said rhetorically, real frustration making it into his voice.

“I wouldn’t know,” Branch shrugged as he walked back around the island and sat down again. “I don’t remember anything about mom or those years like you do. I was only five.”

“And I was eight. Didn’t make much of a difference,” Thistle muttered. “The only one that ever really bothered to talk to us was Grandma Rosie when she took us in after mom died.”

Branch’s hands clutched hard against the cup, his heart freezing for a moment before it beat painfully against his chest in the silence.

A hand suddenly landed on his back and he glanced at his brother.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I know how you get,” Thistle apologized worried.

“It’s fine,” Branch mumbled before taking a sip of the black liquid and returning to his food.

The stool squealed across the faux wood floor as Thistle stood up.

“Anyways, I should get going. I’ll throw the car keys in your mailbox.”

Branch nodded and picked up his burrito, taking a bite. He didn’t have much of an appetite now and Thistle paused and stared at his brother’s lack of enthusiasm as he chewed a small bite a little too slowly.

“Oh, before I forget. What do you want to do for your birthday?”

Branch stiffened and swallowed hard and shot a cold gaze at Thistle.

“You know I don’t fucking like to do anything for my birthday.”

“At least let me take you out to a bar for a drink,” Thistle insisted straightening out his shirt. “You’ll be turning twenty-one after all. I’ll even rent out the whole place so it’s empty. You don’t have to worry about saying or doing stupid shit around strangers if you get drunk,” he smiled encouragingly, one of those charming smiles that popped a dimple on his cheek that he was good at when he bothered to actually smile.

Branch glared down at his food and chewed on his inner cheek with uncertainty.

“Just think about it, brother. It can just be the two of us unless you don’t mind having Rose and Carter over. Alright?”

Branch sighed feeling sullen over his own lack of enthusiasm as his brother tried to make such a considerate effort, he really should try being less crappy towards Thistle. Branch nodded once.

“Good!” Thistle voice came out loud and overly pleased.

Suddenly a hand came down on Branch’s head and ruffled his bedhead and Branch yelled shocked. He suddenly sprang up and grabbed Thistle’s arm and tried to twist it.

Thistle laughed and even though Branch was fairly well muscled, he didn’t compare to his brawny brother who had been endowed with a much more masculine physique that he kept well in shape. Before Branch knew it he was in a headlock with his brother noggin his skull, thick rough knuckles tussling up oily black hair into a greater mess.

“Alright! Enough! Get the fuck off me, Thistle!” he yelled punching Thistle’s side.

Thistle let him go still laughing boisterously as he smacked Branch’s back and made the poor guy cough as the shock reverberated into his ribcage.

“Catch you later, bro,” he chuckled walking over to the hallway and the key box.

“Again with the bro?” Branch grounded out rubbing the back of suddenly sore neck.

“It’s funny cuz it pisses you off!” Thistle called as he yanked out the car keys, closed the box and marched to the door.

“Stop it with the fucking slang, you sound like a damn moron!”

“I will when you stop cussing,” Thistle retorted.

“Like that is fucking going to happen!”

“Then get used to it! I’ll see you soon!” Thistle replied amused and the door slammed shut behind him.

Branch plastered himself back in his seat and grated his teeth in frustration. Then a little nagging alarm went off in his head that the door wasn’t locked and he stood up to get right to it.

Man, his brother was a real pain in the ass sometimes. At least he didn’t see him often which Branch admitted he regretted a little. They had been pretty close as children, almost inseparable until the incident in middle school when Branch had become more introverted than ever.

With a sigh Branch checked on the fire extinguisher by the doorway before heading back into the studio’s kitchen. He checked the electric stove and then made sure every other appliance was unplugged before he sat down and finished his breakfast.

Afterwards he went off and took a shower.

Strangely enough the studio apartment had a full size bathroom, even though it was rather compact. He didn’t mind the size of the establishment as he rinsed off the sweat from his body in a cold rain. He had been living here alone since he was fourteen. Soon that would be seven years.

As nice as the cold water was he knew he couldn’t stay long as he got out a few minutes later and towel dried his hair and looked in the mirror. As much as he wanted to deny it he was cursed with a cowlick on the front of his hair, at least his brother styled his. Branch could care less as he combed his pitch black hair straight with a comb. He stared into the mirror as he did so, his own blue eyes staring back and finding some stubble on his face and he pulled out a razor.

He was quick to shave and wash his face, looking over his cheeks as leaned out as they ever would be. His face was not lean and chiseled like Thistle’s, a little more roundish and definitely that big nose he shared with his brother and father and the natural tan colored skin they shared that wasn’t close enough to be considered brown.

He sighed and got dressed in his black sweats and a white shirt for his routine morning jog.

The morning run always helped clear his head and he needed it this morning, he needed to stop thinking about planes crashing into the sea.

He grabbed a water bottle, his phone and some ear buds and lastly the keys.

His phone vibrated and he stopped in front of the door and pulled out his phone a little too quickly.

Branch was met by disappointment as his childhood friend’s name popped up instead of the one he was secretly hoping for. The fat boy’s face was smiling wide with diamond studded braces, acne scarred face that had left little bumps over his dark skin and that messy green hair that was currently hip.

Then again, Gristle could do anything he wanted even it looked awful and probably set a new trend in the magazines he was featured in. That was the life of a bachelor billionaire thanks to his late father who had held long and old ties with Oak Inc. as one of its first investors back in its heyday.

Somehow planned play dates as children had lasted in a long old friendship even to this day. Somehow Gristle had stuck around even after Branch had hit that pissed off depressed stage of puberty.

Gristle: _Branch you free 2day? I got that new game we talked about. Ill bring the pizza. Lets play be4 you go 2 school again. –G_

Branch’s nose scrunched up as he frowned. He quickly started to text back. He didn’t know why it was such a trend to spell everything like crap when texting.

First he keyed in: _Sounds like a fucking pain._

He deleted it with a sigh.

_I’m busy._

His finger hovered over the send key and then tapped the backspace on the touchscreen.

Finally he sent: _Sure._

How lame. He wondered what happened to his spine as he tucked the sleek phone away again.

He opened the door and stepped out only to find himself tumbling forward, air whistling past his face and then he landed on his hands and knees. Pain jarred momentarily up his open palms as he hit the concrete walkway.

“Ow! What the fuck!”

He turned his head back and glared at the box he had tripped over.

Who the fuck had boxes strewn across in front of his damn door?!

There were at least half a dozen! And half of them had the gaudy logo of Cuchavira Co., just a bunch of tripping hazards!

As he looked over he saw the door of the empty studio apartment to his right wide open and some boxes keeping the propped door open.

Great. So his new neighbor was pack rat that was disorderly to boot. He’d have to nag them later about the hazards of having so many boxes and…

“Oh, gosh! Branch, I’m so sorry!”

Branch stiffened.

_No. Fuck no. Please…no!_

His mind was going a mile a minute as he turned wide blue eyes to the source of the bright, sing song voice that seemed to shower sunshine when she spoke.

She was rushing up to him with a box in her arms. Her pink hair was a color that just burned the eyes with its brightness. Her ponytail swaying behind a cyan scrunchy with garish red flowers pinned to it that she was overly fond of. The bright pink contacts of her eyes shouldn’t look natural yet it had been so long since he’d seen her real amber eyes that he had almost forgotten how they look. Light freckles dusted her peach colored along with fake glitter freckles in the shapes of little stars and dust that was the latest crazy fashion trend. Her cheeks were bright with blush, probably from running around everywhere.

Branch found himself staring at her with mild relief but mostly horror.

Dumbstruck he watched as she placed the box down she was carrying and damn it all his eyes were glued in that direction and he caught sight of her cleavage as her green-blue frilly shirt hung down. Even the color of her bra holding the flush of her soft bosom…white with a pink lacey frill and a bow…

He felt fire rush up to his face and down his body simultaneously in an instant.

For fuck’s sake! Could this girl be any more careless?!

Branch’s face was on fire and he gulped forcing his eyes to look at the floor that very second.

Two small hands grabbed his shoulders and started to tug him up.

“I’m fine!” he snapped flustered, brushing off her hands as he pushed himself up and turned his blushing expression away from the shorter girl.

“Branch, your face is red! You didn’t hit your face did you?” Poppy fretted. “I really am sorry. I forgot to open the door and the guys just piled up the boxes out here.”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Poppy?” he finally growled, ignoring her question.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she giggled a little too perkily.

Branch scowled and finally looked at her and her glowing smile.

Of course it was fucking obvious! But he was still holding out on the faint hope that it was a cruel prank at his expense.

“I’m your new neighbor!” she thrilled with a little jump. “I saw the place was empty when I visited you to invite you to the trip and leased it out back then. Isn’t it great?”

His heart felt like it stopped then started again at a neck break pace.

No. Fuck no. Oh fuck no, she wasn’t kidding!

The expression of horror couldn’t be more obvious on his face.

He could hear a little voice in his head saying goodbye to sweet silence. There goes the neighborhood. Get ready for partying and loud music and jam sessions with her friends and their band. Say hello to the paparazzi chasing after a rising singer stalking their hallway. Not to mention the ‘princess’ of the multi-million dollar Cuchavira Corporation. Practically everyone knew her damn face and she was going to bring scrutiny to whoever were her friends or neighbor… And that specifically meant _him_ who had managed to hide his existence from the business press and everyone around him for some years now. His cover was going to be blow.

Boy, if his father knew that _the_ princess of Cuchavira Co., Poppy Corona, was his new neighbor and old childhood acquaintance…rivals to Oak Inc… His father would blow a fuse. To say there was bad blood between their fathers was an understatement.

Not even Poppy knew Branch was one of the ‘princes’ of Oak Inc. How was he going to keep anything secret _now_?! His mind was in a frantic panic, he was sure she’d hate him the moment she knew…

“Branch…now you got pale,” Poppy muttered looking a bit annoyed and worried.

“You can’t be my new neighbor!” he suddenly bellowed. “Why here! Of all places! Why don’t you just stay in your dad’s mansion?!”

Poppy looked surprised and taken aback. “This is a lot closer to school and I wanted to be a little more independent. Dad wasn’t too happy but he agreed… Branch are you saying you don’t want me as your neighbor?” she asked a little hurt.

“Of course not!” he blurted out without thinking.

The hurt expression that crossed her face had him regretting his words in an instant but his opinion was no different.

“Poppy, look,” he sighed running his hand through his hair with frustration. “It’s quiet here. You can’t even have loud noises after eight p.m.!”

“I won’t. I promise,” she insisted in an instant. “We already agreed we’d have any recording sessions at the studio or Creek’s place, he’s got all the equipment for our music videos anyways. And any parties will be at his place too or at my dad’s when they let us. I won’t bring noise here and I’ll be careful about the paparazzi,” she said sounding sure of herself.

Branch groaned, trying to find the words to protest, to keep arguing. But he knew her mind was set, yet in vain he would try to change it.

“Namaste, Branch.”

The calm collect voice had Branch stiffening up in an instant.

He turned his icy blue glare on the tall lean boy now standing right behind him holding a box in his hands. Long blue hair with teal green tips tied up in a loose wavy ponytail. Dark blue eyes practically leapt out from the light complexion of his face, which was a little darker than usual which Branch attributed to a possible sunburn from their trip. For once he was wearing a shirt though it was a startling purple, a loose fitted thing without sleeves that showed off the lean muscles of his arms from years in the swim team and yoga. He still had those atrocious yellow trousers though. And his right ear had that obnoxious feather earing hanging and colored purple and blue with some chakra symbol on it. Then a gold band ear cuff along the edge of the same ear.

“Creek,” Branch muttered back.

Creek gave him that disturbingly wide friendly smile, taking a step closer. Too close.

“You should have come with us to the beach, Branch. We had a blast. Poppy even tried surfing,” he cooed with that tone Branch despised, that verged on mocking as he looked at Poppy with bright eyes.

Out of all of Poppy’s friends, Branch hated Creek the most. He didn’t buy that bullshit Zen attitude and one with the universe crap for one second. Creek was nothing more than a shallow, selfish, arrogant, manipulative jerk that had rubbed Branch the wrong way since high school when Creek started to try getting close to him for who knows what reason.

“I actually got pretty good!” Poppy shared excitedly, her hand touching Branch’s bare arm and making him stiffen. “But Creek was made for surfing, he was a real pro.”

Creek chuckled and shrugged modestly. “What can I say? Years of yoga and swimming can do wonders for flexibility.”

“Yeah… I got to go,” Branch said shoving past Creek who was just as tall as him.

“Wait, mate,” Creek said smoothly, making Branch tense up. He hated when Creek used that word. “Have any classes this semester with Dr. Micah? Advance Coding that is,” he clarified.

Ugh. Branch wish he could forget Creek was in the same major as him. But Creek was a year behind him at least both in age and classes. So far he had been free of a miserable existence of sharing a class with him.

“No, I took him last semester,” Branch said briskly. He could feel his fingers crushing around the weak plastic of the water bottle.

“Any advice?” Creek practically purred out the words too sweetly.

“Don’t be late,” Branch said cuttingly and marched off.

“I’ll visit you later, Branch!” Poppy called waving goodbye.

“Don’t!” he spat loudly without looking back.

He soon found himself marching past the Snack Pack, all of whom shrunk away from him and pressed up against the walls like he was the plague. He didn’t give a shit. Now he really needed to have a long run to clear his head.

At least Poppy was alright. No plane crash. She probably had lost her phone, again. Just like Thistle had guessed.

But why the fuck did she have to be his new neighbor?! Of all apartments in this fucking large town why did she have to pick the one right next door to his?!

Goodbye distance.

Hello growing heartache and headache.

He was probably going to have to buy a new poetry journal again which his publicist was probably going to freaking love. Maybe this situation could finally convince him to stop publishing poetry even under a pen name. After all he was only doing it because Gristle had found his stash a few years ago and sent it out to editors without his permission with Thistle’s stamp of nosy-meddling brotherly approval. The only reason Branch kept it up was that it let his frustration out while getting some good royalty payments to set aside for when he finally broke free of his family’s name. He could give a shit about the reviews which Gristle and his publisher gushed about every time they could, saying he should focus on a career in writing. As if.

One thing was certain though.

The pink nightmare and muse had moved in next door and his world just might come crashing down with her and straight into a shit hole.

 


	2. Life is like Pizza Grease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome my co-writers! We hope you guys enjoy this~ ;3

* * *

Was he hiding behind a corner?

Of course not.

That wasn’t his fucking style.

Yet here he was, peering around the corner with sharp eyes down the banister to his door.

No boxes outside. No sign of Poppy. No sign of the Snack Pack.

The coast was clear.

Absently and agitated he crushed the empty water bottle and letters in his hand and quietly crept down the cement pathway towards his apartment door. His hand sinking into his work out pants to feel around for the jangling of his keys. Making him cringe when the metal rattled together.

Every step of the way he looked about like a concerned animal, eyes constantly shifting towards the door next to his.

Poppy hadn’t been moved in for over an hour and he was already on edge as the key slipped into the keyhole and he quickly dodged inside.

Branch didn’t realize he had been holding his breath as plastered himself against the door and locked it with one sweaty hand.

The cold air of the conditioner hit his face and made every breath sting into his lungs as his chest heaved, as if he had ran several miles straight. Honestly, he had only jogged but he was out of breath.

He stared vacantly into the disarray of his home and grumbled to himself.

A buzzing ticked the skin of his leg and his hand quickly grabbed the phone free of it’s resting place in his pocket. Unlocking the screen he stared down at the text message.

Gristle: _Be there at 1. Got the pizza and game._

Branch grunted, regretting the invitation instantly.

Looking towards his key box he deposited the apartment key and then the car key his brother had left his mailbox.

Thistle... He should probably text his brother. With a dreary sigh he pulled up the messenger and quickly texted him, it was supposed to be simple but somehow, Branch found himself ranting over letters.

Branch: _Poppy is back. She fucking lost her phone. AND GUESS WHAT? SHE MOVED IN NEXT DOOR!!! OF ALL THE FUCKING PLACES! NEXT DOOR!_

Branch grumbled, tucking the phone and diving for the bathroom for a quick rinse. He was undressed in moments when his phone buzzed against the counter, making that loud rattling noise no one liked.

His hand swiped it quickly and he was instantly grimacing as saw the message preview.

Thistle: _LMAO. GOOD LUCK, BRO._

His brow knitted together and grinding his teeth, Branch quickly texted back, smashing the graphic keys on the screen.

Branch: _ASSHOLE._

The phone instantly dinged again, a pointless: _LOL._

Cursing under his breath, Branch smacked the phone back on the counter and quickly took his cold shower and got dressed, his mind whirling.

Cleaning was actually somewhat of a helpful distraction, but not by much.

The vacuum drowned out his thoughts, the meticulous organizing straightened his thoughts for a moment. Cleaning the counter burned his nose with the scent of bleach.

He paused, the bottle in hand as he glared at the potted plant on the counter.

How plausible was it to dump some of the chemicals on it and pretend it had been an absent-minded mistake?

The plant would probably laugh in his face and fucking survive anyways.

Snorting he shoved the bottle of bleach under the counter and threw the rag back in the sink so he could rinse it off.

By the time the clock read 12:30 PM his apartment was spotless and organized once again. Leaving him with absolutely nothing to do in the next thirty minutes.

He decided to check his revision closet while he waited.

Nothing should be out of place.

It certainly wasn’t as he opened the door and was greeted with his supplies. An extra fire extinguisher, medical supplies, emergency batteries, flashlights, canned food, backpacks with clothes and essentials. Camping gear, tools for starting a fire, sleeping bag, blankets, knives, glow sticks, utensils, even one of those machines that purify urine into drinking water…

He got no ends of laughs from his brother for that one. If he was compared to Sheldon Cooper one more time…

Sighing, he closed the door and looked around his living room-bedroom. His couch was clean at least and the flatscreen was dusted and cleaned free of any smudges. The consoles on the bottom and cords nearly tied to the wall connected to his desktop…

He sighed, bored.

A knock came from his door and he perked up and tensed all at once. His blue eyes shot warily to the door and he swallowed, finding a moment to remember how to move his feet.

It was one hard jerk after the other but he was soon before the peephole, looking out. He sighed in relief when he caught sight of a familiar profile, the green hair beneath a black fedora being a dead giveaway.

Unlocking the door he quickly opened it and was assaulted with the smell of cologne and greasy pizza and a familiar round face.

Gristle gave Branch a wide smile, holding up the box of pizza and the new video game, as promised. The gaudy logo of Snarfunkle’s brandishing the box with obnoxious colors.

“Hey, Branch!” he greeted eagerly as he let himself inside of Branch’s apartment, easily pushing past the more lanky individual.

In fact, Branch had to sidestep to get out of the way and he was just impatient to lock the door.

“Hey, Gristle,” he muttered and locked the deadbolt for good measure.

Gristle made himself at home as he set the pizza box down on Branch’s coffee table, taking the game from the top and popping the disc from the box and into the console.

“I’m so totally stoked to play this game, man!” Gristle chattered as he pulled the controllers closer to the coffee table. “I’ve heard some good stuff about it on IGN. They say it’s even better than the first two Diablo games combined.”

“Yeah?” Branch asked rather uninterested. He walked back into the kitchen and pulled out a pair of porcelain plates from the cabinet, setting them on the counter.

If Gristle heard the disinterest in Branch’s voice, he didn’t react to it as he continued to tell Branch word for word different reviews about the game’s features. It was all a droning event in Branch’s ears, a constant hum that he was unintentionally muting as he pondered the issue next door.

He walked over absently and in a daze, setting down the plates and going back to fetch some water bottles from the fridge and some napkins, a heap of them.

The electronic sounds of the intro music blared through the speakers as the game started and the loading screen appeared just as Branch turned back around.

Gristle plopped down onto Branch’s couch, opening the pizza box and grinning at the display of melted cheese, pepperonis, and grease. He took two slices from the box and put them on one of the plates, pulling it to himself. Reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket, Gristle pulled out a folded piece of cloth. Carefully, he unfolded it, revealing a bib with a Snarfunkle’s logo printed onto it, and with great attention, tied the strings of the garment around his neck.

Branch tried not to roll his eyes as usual. Gristle had a strange thing for bibs, some notion in his mind—or as he once had explained quite adamantly—was that they were made for the higher class. As if it actually did any fucking good, he always left everything he touched covered in food or grease, which was a cringe worthy event for Branch each and every single time.

Branch plopped down and eyed the pizza with a hint of disgust as the oil gleamed in the sunlight pouring in through the blinds, like dewdrops of yellow that dotted the entire surface like urine. It was the most unappealing sight in his life.

Gristle stopped talking as he took a big bite of pizza, his cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk’s while grease instantly dribbled down his chin.

Branch shuddered at the sight and tried not to groan, hell, he tried not to throw up into his mouth as his gag reflex kicked in and his stomach churned with bile.

He sighed, taking a deep breath to calm the discomfort. He grabbed a wad of napkins and grabbed a slice, dabbing the entire surface till the napkin was soaked and he tossed it into the nearby trashcan with a shiver. He dabbed it a second time just for good measure and the pizza still had plenty of grease to deliver to his growing horror.

Once it looked like dry cardboard he took a reluctant bite. It actually didn’t taste that bad but he honestly had no appetite at this point.

He looked up seeing the start screen and grabbed the first player control and set it to multiplayer. Honestly, he wasn’t paying attention as he mashed buttons and started the character selection screen.

It was mind numbing, he just picked the most visually interesting thing on the screen and hit the ‘Ready’. Leaning back, he waited for Gristle to select his character and forced himself to eat more of the food that had been brought.

Gristle didn’t bother wiping his hands before he grabbed the second player controller, the grease from his hands coating the shiny plastic in an even shinier layer of oil. He grinned as he selected his own character, looking to Branch. “You ready, chum?” he asked.

Branch gave a mute nod and started the game, the countdown starting up before the game lobbies loaded into place.

Branch lost track after that as the sounds of metal, magical attacks and other sounds poured out of the sound system.

Paying attention was Branch’s failure today as he kept dying easily through the first few rounds, ignoring Gristle's excited outburst next to him.

What the fuck was he going to do with Poppy next door?

What if she found out he was one of _those_ Oaks? They had gone to private school together before switching to public when he moved in with his grandmother for middle school… He had never shared his family heritage and he didn’t want to, even asking his brother to stay silent about it with Poppy. Though honestly, Thistle never had interacted much with Poppy after they switched schools. Thistle had maintained a private education and got into college early just like Rose… Honestly, Branch could have done the same but...that would have meant leaving Poppy even further behind. Not to mention his drive had hit a wall after the incident in middle school...

He let out a sigh as his thoughts bogged him down.

Gristle glanced at Branch after he died for what had to have been the twentieth time within the first half hour of them playing. He set his controller down and attempted to wipe some of the pizza grease on his jeans.

“You okay, buddy?” he asked, concerned. “Normally you’re the one scolding _me_ for dying too much in a game.”

“Hmm?” Branch blinked, looking up disoriented and noticing the poor score on the screen as they disconnected from the game lobby. “Not really,” he admitted vaguely, setting down the remote and grabbing his water.

“What’s up?” Gristle asked as he scooted closer to Branch. “C’mon and tell your pal Gristle what’s going on in that over-active noggin of yours.”

He grimaced at the typical choice of words as he swallowed a mouthful of water, washing down the lingering taste of grease. But the water slipped over it like oiled duck feathers and left him to suffer the taste regardless.

“Poppy fucking moved in next door,” he finally deadpanned.

“Poppy? You mean _the_ Poppy?!” Gristle asked excitedly, his hands on Branch’s knees as he pulled himself closer to the lankier man.

“Who the fuck else?” Branch spat, cringing back as his personal space was invaded. God, he could _smell_ the disgusting grease on Gristle’s breath wafting into his face. “She’s the only Poppy I know, you know that!”

“Oh. My. God.” Gristle breathed, eyes bulging as if he was just told Santa was real and was coming to visit right that moment. “When did she move in? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

“Dude, it just happened _today_ ,” Branch growled, rolling his eyes.

“Duuuuude! That’s so awesome!” Gristle exclaimed, seemingly unaware of Branch’s plight to having Poppy as his neighbor.

“Awesome, was _not_ the word I had in mind. More like _nightmare_ ,” he corrected dryly.

“Aww,” Gristle practically deflated on top of Branch, “But Poppy is just so _cool_! One time when I met her backstage, she even signed my most prized bib! With a personalized message!”

Branch snorted, rolling his eyes again further into his skull. He could care less about the celebrity crap. He supposed their music was good but…

“Cool is not what I need,” he complained, standing up and pushing Gristle off him. “I like my peace and quiet! What if she brings the paparazzi here and they start looking at her neighbors?!” he asked, yelling to the ceiling as he threw his arms into the air. “What if they start looking at _me!?_ Secret gone! Out the window! _She’ll know!_ Everyone will fucking know who I am and who’s my dad and—and— _Augh!_ ” he screamed, his fingers ripping through his hair.

Gristle laid on Branch’s couch, blinking at the panicked man pacing in front of him in mild confusion. “Why would they look at you, though? They’d be too focused on Poppy and how _awesome_ she is!”

“Ugh,” he groaned, looking away. Of course Gristle didn’t get it. Why would he? He had never tried being low profile. Or was he right…? Was Branch overthinking it…?

No.

He knew he fucking wasn’t.

What if the paparazzi caught a picture of Gristle visiting? Or _worse._ His brother? There was the front page news right there!

“Uhhh… Why did you hit yourself, bro?” Gristle asked as he sat up, pulling Branch’s controller with him to begin a single-player game as Branch’s inner turmoil continued.

Branch didn’t realize his palm had smacked his own forehead, but that’s where he found it and his skin stung.

“Annoyed?” he suggested irritated and sarcastically.

A knock came from the door and he froze, a cold shiver running down his spine.

Who the _fuck_ could that be? He wasn’t expecting anyone…

Grounding his teeth together he marched for the door and almost smacked his face into the peephole. He froze.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as he saw bouncing pink hair outside just at the rim of the glass.

“What?” Gristle asked, slightly distracted by the game. He was used to Branch’s mood swings by now. “Who is it?”

Letting out the loudest sigh he had all day, Branch reluctantly unlocked the door.

As he opened it he had the most unwelcoming look plastered across his face, there were even lines under his eyes with the lack of effort.

Poppy perked up immediately despite the glare, beaming at him with that fucking stupid gorgeous smile. The glitter on her cheeks shimmering in the afternoon light in the passageway.

“Branch!” she grinned, “My man! I brought you some cookies, you know, as a… housewarming gift? Although I guess it’s kind of in reverse since _I’m_ the one who just moved in but you seem to be the one needing the warming up, so I thought I would get you your favorite oatmeal cookies! Y’know… as a gift!” she practically shoved the plate of cookies forward into his arms, beaming the entire time.

“Ugh… Oatmeal isn’t my favorite but...thanks,” Branch grumbled, glancing away as he fingered the plastic at the rim of the plate.

“It’s not?” Poppy’s face immediately dropped. “But I know you like healthy stuff and I thought oatmeal was healthy enough, you know not like the usual sugar cookies I get… If you don’t like them I’ll take ‘em back,” she said, reaching her hands out.

“No!” he immediately snapped, yanking the plate back and away from her. He froze as he noticed his reaction, blush starting to cross his face before he coughed and stepped back.

Poppy beamed immediately, relieved he seemed to want them.

“Great! Ah—oh, sorry, didn’t realize you had company,” she giggled, spotting Gristle over Branch’s shoulder.

The controller in Gristle’s hands had dropped with a soft thud onto the carpet as he gawked in awe of the sight before Branch as he battled with Poppy over the plate of cookies.

Poppy, _the_ Poppy Corona, in the flesh right before his eyes! He could barely contain a loud, high pitched squeal as he bounced off of the couch and towards the door to meet his idol for the first time in a casual situation, no VIP ticket necessary.

“Um, yeah,” Branch started till a hand shoved him aside and practically into the wall. “HEY!” he yelped as he actually hit the plaster and glared at Gristle, almost dropping the cookies.

Gristle took Poppy’s hand in his, bowing extravagantly and kissing her hand with grease-stained lips. “‘Tis an honor to meet you, Miss Corona,” he greeted her in his most debonair voice.

“Oh, wow, real gentleman I see!” Poppy giggled. “Please, call me Poppy, all my friends do!”

Gristle’s eyes lit up like a christmas tree at the mere thought of being her friend.

“Hmm… have we met?” Poppy continued, tapping her chin and squinting her eyes. “I feel like I’ve seen you before somewhere.”

“Why yes, we have met!” Gristle boasted. “I’ve been to many of your concerts with backstage passes. Plus, not to brag but I am the one and only Gristle King Jr. Perchance you’ve heard of me?”

Branch groaned and walked back towards the kitchen, setting the plate of cookies down on the counter and looking them over as he overheard the two in the background.

“Oh! I remember now, yes! Didn’t I sign your bib?” Poppy perked up excitedly, stepping into the apartment. They didn’t even bother acknowledging the door existed and that it was wide open.

Gristle nodded as he followed her further inside, his hair flopping around like a flag in the wind. “You did! I even have it in a frame.” He winked at her, “I didn’t wanna risk getting that special of a bib dirty.”

Branch rushed over and slammed the door shut. He paused, then opened it slightly and glared past the sliver hoping there were no sniper cameramen outside. He saw nothing out of the ordinary past the veranda and into the gated parking lot. He reluctantly closed the door a little more softly this time.

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” Poppy flushed, putting a hand to her chest. She caught sight of Branch. “Oh, Branch! I need to tell you everything that happened in Hawaii! Gah, it was so amazing, you should have been there, you would have loved it!” she gushed, Branch grimaced at her with a solid grunt. “Have you been to Hawaii, Gristle?”

Gristle was only slightly put off by Poppy’s change in topic, but perked up the moment she addressed him again.

“Yes, I have!” he said, puffing his chest out in pride. “I took a trip there a few years back as a matter of fact.”

“Nice!” Poppy grinned excitedly. “We visited practically all the best beaches there. My friend Cooper got a crab in his pants!” she giggled, turning to Branch. “Isn’t that funny?! I mean it didn’t pinch him or anything thankfully but it sure did scare him!”

Branch gave her another grunt, shoving past them and into the kitchen. He dived for the cookies, anything to distract him of this nerve-wracking situation. Did Poppy not recognize Gristle as one of the richest men in the world? Ah fuck, how was he going to explain that?

Hopefully she wouldn't notice… _Please._

Gristle glanced at Branch as he literally shoved them to get to his kitchen. “Sheesh, he really needs to take a chill pill,” he muttered to her quietly which Branch heard regardless, “Hey, Branch!” Gristle called into the kitchen as he plopped down onto the couch again, patting the spot next to him for Poppy to sit.

“What!” he snapped, turning back around with half a cookie jammed ungracefully into his mouth.

“Oooh is that Starfunkles?” Poppy perked up as she sat down.

Gristle nodded to her, offering Poppy the box before focusing his gaze towards the kitchen.

“We should show Poppy our badass moves in this game!” Gristle suggested, waggling his eyebrows in Branch’s direction. Branch paused, groaning.

“What game is this?” Poppy asked, squinting at the screen. “I don’t play many video games except Dance Dance Revolution.”

Of course that’s all she played...

“Um… I’m not sure this is her...thing?” he mumbled as crumbs fell past his lips.

“What’s it called?” Poppy asked again.

“Diablo III!” Gristle said jubilantly, handing her his grease-covered controller as he grabbed the first player controller. “I bet you’d have fun since Mr. Grumpy Gills over there won’t get out of the kitchen.”

Branch glared, stuffing another cookie in his mouth. Great, he was fucking stress eating.

“Can I really play?” Poppy asked perkily as she took the greasy controller, not seeming bothered by the disgusting texture.

“Heck yeah!” Gristle grinned as helped her setup her character, chattering a mile a minute on the mechanics of the game and what buttons did what.

“Ooh, I wanna be a wizard,” Poppy grinned, selecting her character.

“You got it, pal!” Gristle chimed as he showed her how to finish setting up the character. He quickly grew comfortable addressing Poppy in a less formal manner.

Branch found this entire situation confusing as he lingered back in the kitchen, staring at this odd sight as the game started. He was actually rather...intrigued?

He almost spat out the cookie he was eating when Poppy made her first kill effortlessly, picking up the mechanics rather quickly. Screaming at the top of her lungs and Gristle joining in the boisterous display making Branch go deaf.

_The fuck._

She was a natural gamer? What the hell? Since _when?_

“AHAH! _DIE!_ YES, I got you!” Poppy cried, fiddling with the game controller, her eyes glued onto the screen. Gristle let out a whoop of exhilaration as Poppy practically led them into battle.

This...was...fucking... _weird._

_Poppy playing a hack and slash rpg..._

And it was strangely… _Hot?_

The **_FUCK!_**

_What was he thinking?!_

Branch screamed, shoving another cookie into his mouth to calm himself down only to end up choking and coughing loudly.

Poppy immediately put down the controller, whipping her head towards him.

“Branch, what’s wrong?!” she asked, standing up worriedly.

“Nonono Poppy! The game’s still going!” Gristle whimpered loudly as he grabbed her controller and attempted to dual-wield them when her focus bounced to Branch’s screaming.

“No-no-thing!” Branch coughed, fisting his own chest and rushing back towards the coffee table and yanking his water bottle to his mouth.

“Are you sure?” Poppy eyed him carefully. “You kinda screamed there…”

He quickly guzzled down half the water down and yanked it back, wheezing.

“Fine,” he lied past a muddled breath of air.

A knocking came from the door and his brow knitted together as he glared towards it.

Okay… _Who the fuck was it now?_

He crushed the bottle in his grip and tossed it into the trash, his face still flushed as he marched over to the door.

Poppy sat back down, still unsure as she glanced at Branch but she picked up the controller again, turning her attention back to the screen.

In Branch’s agitation he didn’t even check the peephole, which in hindsight he would have reprimanded himself for being stupid. Instead he yanked the door open furiously.

“What?!”

“And he opens it a second time! Wow! That’s a record,” Thistle laughed, grinning widely. He was still wearing the same clothes from this morning, his black blazer unbuttoned and there was a potted plant in his hand.

Branch’s face pinched up and he squinted at his older brother like he was an enigma.

“The fuck...are you doing back here?”

“Poppy!” Thistle called into the apartment, shoving past Branch who was still frozen by the doorway and ignoring his question. “Long time no see, Shrimp!”

“Eh?” Poppy tilted her head towards the voice but her eyes were still glued to the screen. “Just ooooonnneeeee sec… gotta beat… BEAT HIM! YES!” she pumped her fists into the air, cackling and set down the controller, standing up. She finally turned and jumped in surprise when she saw the older Oak boy. Gristle was left yelping and trying to grab her remote again as the game continued.

“Thistle!?” she cried, flailing her arms.

He grinned widely at her. “Been awhile, huh? You’re looking good, Shrimp.”

“You’re looking…. Holy shit, you’re tall,” Poppy gaped. “There was no way you were that tall last time I saw you. That or I shrunk.” She looked down at herself curiously.

He laughed, walking over and ruffling her pink hair. “Last time I say you was a Rose’s birthday last year, hasn’t been that long.”

She giggled and immediately wrapped him in a big hug.

“A year is way too long for my friends,” she stated with a smile.

He hugged her back with one large bicep as Branch closed the door and stared into the overcrowded space of his home. This was getting out of hand...

“I got you a housewarming gift,” Thistle announced, passing her a potted little bush of pink primroses. “I figured Branch is too much of a slouch to you get you a welcome-to-the-neighborhood present.”

“Oh—em—gee! Thank you, these are so adorable!” Poppy gushed, taking it eagerly. “And Branch doesn’t have to give me a gift, this works just as well!”

Branch grumbled and cursed, heading back for the kitchen. His brother just _had to_ come and be nice. He wasn't even her neighbor!

“Hey, Poppy,” Thistle was smirking with mischief, turning a glance at his little brother who turned a foul gaze his way the moment he heard that tone.

“Yeah?” Poppy looked up from sniffing the primroses.

“If Branch asked you for sugar, you’d give him some, right? He runs out.”

Branch choked, coughed and spluttered as his face turned red. His brother smiled innocently and cheekily at the Poppy.

“Really? I didn’t think Branch even used sugar in anything he cooks,” Poppy said blankly, surprised. “But yeah, he’s always welcome to ask me for sugar!”

Branch coughed again, tears in his eyes as he choked harder on some bits of dry oatmeal cookie.

Thistle laughed, doubling over and glancing at his little brother who’s face was redder than a beet as he glowered in Thistle’s direction.

Branch rushed over to the fridge and yanked out a new water bottle and finished more than half of it in a few large gulps. The cold liquid running down his throat and rubbing it free of debris.

“I don’t get it, what’s so funny?” Poppy squinted, looking at Thistle confused.

“I’m going to kill you!” Branch yelled with a graveled voice as he turned a bloodshot gaze on his laughing brother who was quieting down to some deep chuckling.

“That’s for pissing me off earlier,” Thistle retorted and Branch flinched, muttering to himself. His brother turned back to Poppy. “Don’t worry, Shrimp. Inside joke,” Thistle simpered, ruffling her hair again and looking at Gristle who had finally finished the game with a defeated sigh.

“Ooh, okay,” Poppy grinned back.

“Gristle, what’s up man?”

“Hey Thists!” Gristle called from the couch, bouncing up to greet the older man with a quick hand slap exchange that Branch could never follow.

Branch himself was still grumbling to himself in the kitchen, staring at his half empty bottle of water as the group chatted by his couch. When was the last time he had so many people over?

Never, was the word that came to mind. It was anxiety inducing as he stared at them and tried not to feel unnerved and overwhelmed as his living space was invaded.

“I should’ve put chocolate chips in the cookies,” Poppy suddenly spoke up next to him. When the hell did she get there?! She was pouting, staring at the plate of cookies that was nearly half gone.

He was so lost in thought staring at plastic in his hands that she had somehow snuck up beside him.

Branch blinked, looking up momentarily to see his brother and Gristle starting a new session as they chatted about the game.

“Uh, no, it’s fine,” he muttered with a shrug. “I mean, I love chocolate but everything with measure. Oatmeal is healthier.” Why was he trying to reassure her?

“If you’re sure, you were kinda glaring at them,” Poppy shrugged, fiddling with a strand of her hair. She spotted the lavender plant and immediately grabbed it, putting it under the sink to give it water like she always did.

He glared at her back as she did so, cursing the damn fucking plant. He glanced away, taking a sip of water as his throat ached from coughing.

“Nice to see this plant has survived while I was gone, I told you it would grow on you!” Poppy beamed, setting it back down in its original spot.

“Yeah, sure. Fucking whatever,” he grumbled, glaring at it and wishing for a moment he could catch it on fire by just staring at it hard enough.

Flames illuminated in his mind’s eye and he immediately felt his chest seize, he sucked in a short breath and sweat started to bead on his forehead. The plant somehow easily catching fire in his imagination…

_Heat._

Insufferable heat, licking at his skin.

He couldn’t _breathe_.

Smoke, the foul stench of carbon sticking to his throat and making the muscles clench and burn with pain…

He couldn’t breathe!

“Branch?” A hand touched his shoulder.

He blinked, tearing his eyes away from the imaginary flames consuming the little plant as he wheezed. He looked into Poppy’s amber eyes and saw his own panic reflecting there as he let out another horrible strangled breath.

“Wow! Wow!” Thistle called, rushing into the kitchen after tossing down the controller. He shoved his way in front of Poppy and grabbed Branch’s shoulders who looked up at him panicked, still breathing erratically. “Calm down, Branch! It’s alright, breathe,” his brother soothed, looking around urgently. “Where’s your inhaler?”

Branch wheezed another painful breath and felt his fear only mounting as he pointed to a drawer next to the closet at the end of the counter with a trembling hand.

Poppy was the first to make a mad dash for the drawer, yanking it open and finding the inhaler easily. She grabbed it and ran back over to Branch, pressing it into his hands.

He quickly took the plastic cover off and shoved the inhaler into his mouth, pressing the little canister and a blast of undesirable chemicals scorched down his throat and into his lungs.

It always burned and stung the soft sensitive flesh of his throat and the taste was foul.

But damn it all if it didn’t force his lungs to open again so he could breath as he sucked in that sharp relieving breath of air. He closed his eyes, relaxing and taking a deep steady breath as he pulled the inhaler away from his lips.

Pathetic.

He had given himself his own panic and asthma attack. That had to be irony.

“Oh god, oh god, did I give you something you’re allergic to?!” Poppy was fretting. “Was there something in the cookies, are you allergic to peanut butter or oats or—,”

“Poppy, stop,” he groaned, putting down the inhaler and rubbing one of his eyes.

“It was a panic attack, nothing he ate,” Thistle assured with a relieved sigh as he let go of Branch’s shoulders after giving them a good and hard rub.

Poppy still looked unconvinced, nervous as she looked at Branch.

“Why’d he… why was he having a panic attack?”

Thistle frowned at that, looking at Branch concerned and with a raised eyebrow. Several reasons coming to mind and Branch could see it in his eyes.

Branch grimaced, glaring back as he shut his mouth and mulled it over a second.

“I just gave myself a panic attack, alright? Now would you two get out of my personal space?” he growled, waving them off. Thistle sighed, immediately taking a step back.

“Oh, Branch,” Poppy frowned, opening her arms. “Do you need a hug?”

“No!” he snapped, walking away in the opposite direction and round the kitchen island to get away from her.

Poppy dropped her arms, biting the inside of her lip. Thistle snorted, unsurprised.

“Anything I can do to help?” she asked, stepping towards the kitchen island.

“Just go away!” he spat, heading for the couch as he fumed embarrassed.

Poppy flinched and took a step back.

“...Uh… O-okay,” she said quietly.

“Branch!” Thistle snapped, his brow knitting together. “You don’t need to be a royal class act ass, you know.”

“And who the fuck invited you all!?” he lashed back, turning around to glare at them.

“You did?” Gristle asked from the couch glancing back, bewildered at Branch’s sudden change in mood as his loud voice interrupted his concentration. But the game was already lost.

“We just wanna spend time with you, that’s all,” Poppy said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well did you think maybe I don’t want your company?!” he thundered back. Thistle was glaring fouly at him at this point.

“But you’re our friend, why wouldn’t you want some company?” Poppy blinked.

“Do I need a ‘no soliciting’ sign on my door? A ‘go away’ mat and billboard? Have you not figured out I like to be alone?” he demanded, throwing his arms into the air.

Thistle sighed heavily, leaning against the counter. Poppy had her arms crossed and her face pinched, trying her best to not look hurt.

“Fine. I’m fucking going,” Thistle growled, shoving himself off the counter and Branch tensed. Still too angry to feel bad. “Not like you trust your brother to open up to him.”

_Ouch._

Alright, that one hurt and Branch flinched, his anger boiling down to a simmer as guilt took him.

Poppy followed Thistle to the door and moved to step out after him, but she paused and turned back to Branch holding her new plant close to her chest. The little pink flowers several shades off her hair color.

“Hope you liked those cookies,” she said softly before leaving the apartment. The sound of the door closing behind her resonated in the momentary silence.

Branch felt himself sag and deflate as a horrible nausea took his stomach and swirled around in there as he stared at the shut door. Their voices somehow echoing still in his head over the paused music of the game on the screen.

“Um...should I go?” Gristle asked carefully from the couch, staring at him and the game on the main menu again.

Branch wanted to throw up. He honestly did.

“Just fucking go,” Branch sighed agitated. He didn’t even look at Gristle as he shuffled into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Anything for some solitude.

Branch immediately found himself slumping onto the toilet and leaning back, feeling the cold white porcelain on his back. He stared at the plaster of the ceiling, swimming in his own self-loathing thoughts about what an ass he could be as his stomach acted like an agitated sea.

Here he was, overwhelmed by the presence of a few people that cared about him. What...was wrong with him?

He groaned, rubbing his face.

The sound of his apartment door opened and shut again and he looked at his bathroom door with a weary sigh.

Alone.

He was fucking alone, again.

 

 


	3. Heart-Burn

“Poppy, hon? You okay?”

Poppy blinked her eyes in surprise at her friend Satin standing in front of her, blue eyes staring at her under silvery blue eyeliner. Poppy’s vision focused again on her surroundings rather than the mindscape of her troubled thoughts.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” she said, quickly straightening up and joining the present. “What’s up?”

“Yeah, Poppy, what’s wrong? Your aura is all gloomy,” Creek added as he came to sit next to her, sinking into the leather couch with a glass bowl of vegan chips in hand.

“I…” Poppy puffed a strand of hair out of her face. “It’s nothing… just caught Branch in a really _really_ bad mood today, I guess. I thought he would be more happy to see me but instead he kinda…” she mimed shooing away with her hand and shrugged. “Told me to get lost.”

The majority of her friends shared an array of facial expression from grimaces to scowls. It was a proverbial rainbow of negative facial gestures in the span of a few seconds.

“But still, I really want to help him out,” Poppy continued with a frown. “I know I can help him, he doesn’t mean it when he’s rude. He just has... You know, different issues.”

“If he don’t mean it, why does he hurt you then?” Cooper asked loudly. He looked around at some of the looks that focused on him in their little studio. “What? You were all thinkin’ it! He totally just snubs her all the time and it makes her sad and sad just ain’t Poppy’s thing!”

“I’m not sad!” Poppy quickly defended herself and straightened up. “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.”

“Gurl, you’re totally sad! Look atcha!” Cooper gestured at Poppy’s slouched form on the couch.

“I—I was thinking about…. I’m just worried about him. He had a panic attack while I was there,” Poppy sighed. “Said he accidentally gave it to himself… I’m just _worried_ about him, okay?”

Cooper shrugged at her. “Or he coulda been lyin’ to ya, maybe you caused it!” he suggested, nudging Biggie who frowned uncomfortably. “I mean I wouldn’t put it past him to say Popps here gave him a panic attack.”

“Cooper!” scolded a calm disappointed voice. “How could you say our Poppy could ever give someone a panic attack?” Creek glanced at her with sympathetic blue eyes and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Cooper held his hands up in defence. “I’m just sayin’, bro!”

“Maybe we did overwhelm him,” Poppy frowned, thinking back.

“I wouldn’t put it past Branch to be a classic jerk, Poppy,” Guy spoke up, looking up from his nails. “He’s kinda always been a reclusive hermit with bad manners. Don’t take it personally.”

“Guy’s right, Popps,” Creek agreed with a sagely nod of his head, his hand absently rubbing her shoulder.

Smidge stood in the back, cracking her knuckles audibly as she watched Poppy with a serious expression. “Just say the word, girlfriend.” Smidge muttered.

Poppy smiled at Creek and then swept that simper as she looked over her friends, grateful for their presence.

“I just… you know,” she muttered. “I _know_ there’s happiness inside him. I want to help him find it again.”

“Poppy, you are one super idealistic human being and I will always admire you for that, but wouldn’t you say Branch is a bit of a lost cause?” Guy asked tentatively.

“No,” Poppy said immediately with a frown. “What makes you say that?”

“C’mon, Poppy, he like, says no to everything you invite him to or ask him to do!” Suki called from the large soundboard in the corner of the room. Guy nodded in agreement in a seat a few feet away from her.

“He’s shy!” Poppy shot back stubbornly. Guy snorted.

“Shy, yeah, sure,” he muttered.

“And I’m Santa Claus,” Suki retorted in agreement with Guy.

“Guys, guys, calm down. All this negative energy isn’t good for us,” Creek pacified, taking a deep breath through his nose in emphasis and letting it out with a rolling swoosh of his free hand as his chest decompressed. “Just breathe.”

“I think what everyone is trying to say, Poppy,” Biggie spoke up kindly, “Is that Branch might be… how do you say… not worth it? Abusive tendencies? He only ever puts you down and clearly doesn’t want your help, and… honestly we’re worried for you.” Cooper nodded in agreement with Biggie, his green hat nearly tumbling off his head from the force.

“Branch—he’s not _like_ that you guys!” Poppy cried, aghast at Biggie’s suggestion. “I _know_ there’s good in him!”

“Well, what _is_ he like then?” Chenille asked from next to Satin, mirroring her twin’s pose as they both sat like models in their seats.

“He—,” Poppy swallowed, darting her eyes about trying to think of a good way to describe Branch. “He’s resourceful, he’s intelligent, and he just has a bad past that makes him cranky sometimes but I’m trying to help him… not be so upset. I just want to help him find his happiness again guys, he’s not abusing me! I’m not _that_ stupid,” she crossed her arms, her stubbornness and resolve growing even stronger and Creek let her go, diving for his bowl of green and orange vegetable chips.

“He’s also got a stick up his ass.” Suki attempted to mutter quietly to Guy. Guy nodded his head and sighed and Poppy had not missed it, glaring their way till her amber eyes blazed.

“You do you, Poppy,” Guy said finally. “I won’t stop you from trying.”

“Why don’t we listen to some tunes to cheer up our girl?” Creek suggested with a smile, passing the bowl of chips to Poppy. Poppy took a handful and stuffed her mouth with chips.

“Tunes! Yes, tunes, good idea,” Biggie agreed.

Suki grinned at the suggestion, giving a thumbs up before turning on the amps connected to her sound board and the computer and picking one of Poppy’s favorite songs, turning it up.

The first song was something they all knew and before long they were singing along, practicing their vocals to ‘When Can I see you Again?’ by Owl City. Poppy’s mood immediately began to improve as she felt the positive energy echoing in the room.

The playlist began to shuffle and as the first song finished she simultaneously pouted and waited excitedly for the next song to play.

A deep melodic voice started to hum over the speakers.

“Oh, for the universe’s sake! No!” Creek cried. “Not this song!”

“NO, LEAVE IT ON!” Poppy cried. “I LOVE THIS SONG!!”

Suki didn’t hear Creek over Poppy and turned the music up, grinning at Poppy’s enthusiasm.

“How can you _love_ it? It’s a depressing love song!” Creek groaned, eyeing her bewildered.

“It’s beautiful, though!” Poppy moaned, closing her eyes. “Some things that are sad are beautiful when done right… Ugh, and his voice kills me.”

“Poppy’s right, this is a good song,” Guy simpered, not looking up from his phone.

“His voice is top notch too! One of my favorites to mix,” Suki added, humming along to the song as it played.

“You guys have poor taste,” Creek muttered loudly. “No one even knows who the heck _‘Tao’_ is, just out of the damn blue he comes out of nowhere with a depressing single.”

“A depressing single that’s breaking records. The anonymity just makes him more popular, people like the mystery,” Guy grinned. Suki jokingly swooned into Guy’s lap, fighting back a laugh at Creek’s soured expression. It wasn’t hard to see someone was jealous.

“He’s just probably some artist that is just looking to boost his numbers, that’s the only reason he published it under some unknown name. Just watch, in a few months when the hype is down he’s going to reveal himself as some singer everyone knows that just went rogue,” he nodded with certainty.

“You wanna bet?” Guy leaned forward, a sparkle in his eye as Suki sat up again.

“You’re awfully confident, Guy,” Creek mentioned, raising an eyebrow. “Know something we don’t?”

“...No,” Guy snorted. “I just wanna bet. You’re just scared of losing, like our _last_ bet!”

Creek snorted back, smirking. “Scared? Me? Never. You’re on. What’s the bet?”

“What about that one time when you were on that campin’ trip? Wit da poison ivy?” Cooper interjected. Creek gave him a foul glower as Poppy giggled. Cooper shrunk back slightly and pantomimed zipping his lips shut.

“Fifty bucks says Tao is _not_ gonna reveal himself as a known artist within the next… hmm, how many months?” Guy rubbed his chin.

“How long has the song been out again?” Creek asked quietly, already doing the math in his head as he feigned ignorance.

“‘Bout three months, I believe,” Guy said. “It was released like... Maybe a week before we left for Hawaii.”

“Then give it four months tops,” Creek smirked, certain of the calculations running through his mind. “Heck, I bet I can hack into the company that distributed the song and get his info before then.”

“Okay, the bet is off if you do that, dude, that’s cheating,” Guy complained.

Creek laughed. “I won’t cheat, Guy. Promise,” he insisted making a cross over his heart.

“Good. You’re on,” Guy grinned competitively.

“You guys are making it hard to listen to the song,” Poppy complained, leaning over to turn up the volume on the speakers. Guy laughed and sat back, folding his hands behind his head as they listened to the rest of the song, harmonising with it.

Creek at this point had put on his earbuds to drown it out till it was over as he looked over his phone. The rest of the Snack Pack was humming along quietly, never raising their voices to overpower the original singer.

The moment the last seconds of the song played out the speakers, Creek was already pulling out his earbuds, not really having been successful tuning it out.

“So are we going to work today or something?” he interrupted before the next song could start. “We are not going to have much time when classes start on Monday. This is our last weekend to meet up until things settle down.”

Suki huffed at Creek, pausing the computer. “C’mon, Creek, we’re just here to cheer Poppy up. This isn’t a like, official meeting like we usually do.”

“No, he’s right, let’s try and get at least one song figured out,” Poppy said, digging into her backpack as Creek smiled on with just a hint of smugness. “I have this _one_ song I wrote I wanted to throw by you guys and I need your opinion.”

Suki, with a dreary sigh, closed out the playlist to open up the audio and music programs on the computer as Poppy brought out her thick worn songwriting notebook full of sticky notes and tabs. Poppy opened it up and flipped through the crinkled pages, some glitter falling onto her lap in the process.

“Here it is!” she said, holding it up for them to see. “It is called ‘Get Back Up Again’! Or is that title too long you think?”

“The title is fine, just make sure we don’t go down the path of Panic! At the Disco and have our titles be ten words long,” Guy joked. Suki snorted loudly at the jape and punched Guy’s arm. Guy grinned at her, rubbing his arm sheepishly where she’d punched it.

Creek was reading over Poppy’s shoulder, his eyes glancing over the lyrics in her flowing handwriting done with too much pink ink and little hearts.

He smirked and leaned in, pecking her cheek. “I think it’s perfect, love. Just your kind of song.”

Poppy’s cheeks flushed a vibrant red and she swallowed.

“Heh, hem, than—thanks,” she giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Money was slipped under instruments and behind chairs as the rest of their friends silently made and paid bets, all eyes on the interactions between Creek and Poppy.

Poppy was too preoccupied to notice as she glanced from Creek to her notebook a few times, trying to calm her heart suddenly hammering in her ears. However, his blue eyes didn’t miss anything and he leaned back and away from her as Guy approached.

“Okay, what impresses me the most are the illustrations on the side of the lyrics,” Guy spoke up, peering over the notebook. “Although the one-eyed bird confuses me.”

“They’re just doodles,” Poppy said with a shrug.

Suki and Cooper approached to see the doodles Guy pointed out. “Is one of them things eatin’ a hamster?!” Cooper asked alarmed, a long finger pressed into the drawing.

“No, no, no, silly,” Poppy giggled. “Not a hamster, a troll! I dunno, I was kind of imagining like a little troll running from dangers while I wrote this song. Like it was singing this song so that it wouldn’t ever be beaten down as it went on her perilous journey. Probably to save her friends from being eaten by monsters, I dunno,” she shrugged.

“Ohhhh!” a small chorus of voices responded to Poppy’s explanation.

“You should write a children’s book, Poppy!” Biggie spoke up. “You’re extremely creative and talented!”

“We all have seen your scrapbooks, maybe it’s your second calling,” Creek agreed, putting the bowl of chips down on the table to the side.

“Ohh, I don’t know, maybe,” Poppy smiled, blushing. “If I have the time maybe I’ll look into it.”

“Well, we getting to work or not?” Smidge demanded as her deep voice echoed in the room as she shoved past every taller person to the front to look at the book, her long teal hair was tied back but still waved behind her almost to her knees.

“Yes, yes, yes, so here’s the tune I was thinking would go with this song,” Poppy immediately straightened her back and took charge.

It was a good evening, and the session went smoothly as it typically did. They hardly noticed time go by as they started hashing out tunes with the instruments back and forth as Poppy practiced the vocals.They had decided she should sing the majority of the song solo.

All of them were sure it would be a big hit and the instrumentals were almost figured out when someone finally noticed the time after Guy let out a particularly loud yawn.

Nine o’clock.

Time certainly had a way of getting away from them when they were all together it seemed. But Poppy had no complaints, smiling after a long good day with her friends after such a harsh morning back at her new apartment. Honestly...she had misgivings going back as she watched her friends leave.

Soon, everyone had rushed out of the large garage converted studio on Mr. Corona’s large estate and into their cars or mopeds. One by one they drove off in the dark, down the long paved road to the gates off the estate’s grounds. Cooper’s singing could be heard as he drove his moped away with their mascot, Fuzzbert, in his basket behind his seat. The Angora rabbit’s floppy fuzzy ears flapping in the breeze and his fur still green from a particular mowing incident earlier that week…

Suki drove her moped beside him, the two singing boisterously over the breeze.

All except two souls were left standing next to Poppy in the dark as a cold breeze blew over and made her shiver, bracing her arms around herself.

“It’s illegal for it to be this cold and not snow,” she muttered.

“...It’s late August, Poppy,” Guy snorted as he finished waving goodbye to the retreating figures. “It’s not supposed to snow for another couple months. Hell it’s not even technically fall yet.”

“Yet they call it the fall semester,” Creek chided amused as he wrapped his arm around Poppy. He was just wearing a purple tank top and the cold didn’t seem to bother him  in particular as he wrapped warmth around the shorter girl.

“You should be getting home,” he suggested.

“Home… y-yeah,” Poppy muttered, her cheeks warm and her voice dazed sounding, completely distracted by the arms around her. Guy snorted as he glanced at them.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out before my brain gives out,” he said, sighing heavily.

“You’re gonna be back tomorrow, right?” Poppy asked.

“Yeah—uh, wait, tomorrow I’m actually meeting with a friend for drinks. Y’know, like I usually do on Sundays,” Guy shrugged. “So I’ll be leaving earlier tomorrow.”

Creek frowned curiously, glancing at him. “You mean like you were doing before we spent almost three months in Hawaii?”

“Yeah! Just a guy I met in my pilates class, we like to talk about manly stuff like sports and other things,” Guy snickered.

Creek snorted loudly, muffling a laugh behind a hand. “Sports aren’t really your thing though, Guy.”

“I’m kidding, duh, if that’s all we talked about I wouldn’t give him the time of day,” Guy laughed, digging his car keys out of his pocket to his white mustang still in the driveway. “But yeah. See you guys later!”

“Guy wait, why don’t you bring your friend here tomorrow?” Poppy called after him as he marched off. Guy paused, looking back with wide dark blue eyes.

“Uh… Why?” he blinked.

“He’s a friend, right? We don’t mind adding another to our pack,” she grinned. Guy bit his lip as they stared at him.

“Yyyeeeeaaaaaah, about that, he’s… Not extremely sociable? Not to the extreme Branch is by any means but he’s pretty introverted,” he shrugged.

“So? We don’t bite! Invite him here!” Poppy encouraged.

“I...will… ask him,” Guy finally conceded.

“See you later, Guy,” Creek waved with a smile.

“See ya, guys!” Guy clambered into his car and soon drove off, leaving Poppy and Creek standing on the driveway alone. Poppy puffed out her cheeks.

“Well… guess I better get back,” she said.

“Want my company?” he offered as he pulled out the keys to his car still parked next to hers before them.

“No, no, it’s fine, I have my car,” Poppy smiled.

“I know, but I could drive back with you and if you want I can stay over and watch a movie with you if you don’t want to be alone,” he said as he let her go and partially turned towards her.

Poppy’s cheeks grew rosy and her breath hitched, but she kicked her foot into the ground in contemplation, thinking it over.

“...Thanks but… I think I want to spend the first night at my new apartment by myself. You know, as an experience. Adventure. I’m moving on in the world!” she grinned. “I’m good. Thanks for the offer, though.”

He smirked back and nodded. “Well, you know where to find me if you need me. Or you can just call or text.”

“Yep, will do. Thanks,” she smiled gratefully at him, pulling her car keys out of her purse.

“You sure you’ll be alright?” he asked quietly, staring at her seriously.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can do this,” she smiled.

He smirked at her, giving her shoulder a light shove with his fist. “That’s my girl. Look, if you need me to talk to Branch, just say so and I’ll be glad to lend a hand.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine, he’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. We’re just neighbors, if anything I’ll be the overbearing one,” she giggled and Creek laughed with her for a moment. It did little to help Poppy mask the insecurity running below the surface but she tried to keep those worries away.

Hands touched her face and she felt keys pressing into her left cheek as she froze. The taller figure leaned in and a press of warmth and the sound of a kiss followed from her forehead.

Her cheeks flared red and her heart pounded even faster.

“Good night, Popps. Drive safe,” he said, pulling away and already stepping back as his fingers slipped off her cheeks, dusting and pulling the glitter away from her skin.

“G—goodnight, Creek! You too!” she breathed. She stood there for a moment like an idiot before shaking her head out of her daze, quickly walking to her pink mini-cooper.

She watched the blue Ford Fusion drive off in the dark for a moment before she glanced back at the large mansion and the studio standing behind her.

She stared for a long moment, a small lump building in her throat but she pushed the feeling down. She was only living across the city, it wasn’t like it was _miles_ away! And if she wanted to come back, well, she could just drive back! But she wouldn’t because she was an adult who could take charge of her life. A college student who could take care of herself.

Poppy opened her car door and plopped inside before she lost her resolve again, plunging the keys into the ignition. The car started up and soon she was backing out of the driveway and pulling away from her old home onto the main road. She watched the house disappear into darkness in her rear view mirror before focusing on the road ahead of her.

“No going back. I got this,” she whispered to herself stubbornly.

 

* * *

 

 Branch groaned, slamming his head into the desk for what was probably the upteenth time.

His eyes peered up at the computer screen and the dark lines underneath hinted at his lack of sleep during the previous night he had wallowed through.

He felt like both literal and figurative shit.

Staring at the screen and lack of available classes was not helping any.

He quietly pulled up the sheet and stared at his schedule with a dead glare.

_Figure Drawing._

What state of mind had he been in to sign up for _that_ class? Just to fulfill his stupid art requirement for his degree plan?

Oh, right. The state of mind worrying why Poppy hadn’t texted him for almost three months and somehow the words ‘figure’ not adding up to naked people.

Now he turned back to the screen and there was no openings for any other art class, damn the late registration fee and drop fee. But damn it also that there was nothing available this late in the game, not even a damn pottery class or _something_. _Anything!_

Classes started tomorrow… Fucking great, at least it was only twice a week...for almost _three hours each day._

He groaned again, looking at the current time displayed on the screen: 9:16 AM.

Branch should honestly make some breakfast, but he had no appetite as he stared into the kitchen with disinterest.

Fuck his life.

Just thinking on that his mind trailed off again to new neighbor…

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t waited up last night to make sure she got back home after he had knocked on her door earlier in the day to apologize. Only silence had followed and he had kept an eye out till her return.

She got home nearly at ten and even with that worry free from his mind, he still hadn’t found the energy to sleep.

Some thought nagged him to go apologize, but his nerve had left him and a constant excuse plagued him that it was too late to bother her. That she would be tired. Probably heading off to bed. Another million excuses following afterwards.

Why didn’t he just admit it?

He was a coward. A gutless fucking piece of shit coward that couldn’t find the nerve to fucking apologize to his friend that he had treated like shit.

Branch groaned again, his head slamming into the table to leave a permanent red mark plastered on his skin as he muttered loathing curses to himself under his breath.

With a final sigh of defeat to his fate some minutes later he pushed himself off his desk and wandered to his kitchen, staring blankly around.

Opening the fridge he glared inside and nothing caught his attention. Absolutely nothing.

His head picked up and he stiffened.

What was that sound?

It wasn’t the pump of the fridge, he was sure of it as he closed it and titled his head. Straining to hear.

The deep alarming buzzing finally sunk in, clicking in his mind and it was coming from his right… Through the wall from the apartment next door...

_The fire alarm!_

Horror washed through him in an instant, a flight of panic strangling his every nerve as he rushed for the fire extinguisher on bare feet.

He nearly tripped, his fingers grabbing at the smooth red steel and yanking it free of the harness on the wall. His fingers slipping and jamming painfully across the metal bracers as he pried the canister free and rushed for his door.

As soon as he opened it the fresh air slapped him in the face and carried the sound to his ears from the door to his right. His heart racing and hammering wildly as he rushed for the door.

His hands gripped the knob and twisted it but it didn’t budge. It felt hot…

Was it burning?

Was it blazing inside?

Was Poppy _trapped?!_

“Poppy!” he screamed, his fist slamming down on the wooden door and rapping it with a fierce vengeance with his fist like it was a drum.

He paused.

Only the blaring of the fire alarm continued, echoing and shrieking in his ears.

Oh god! Was she injured? Unconscious?

Should he call 911?

He had to get her out of there first!

“POPPY, I’M COMING!” he yelled into the door and suddenly charged with a few paces back.

_Slam!_

His shoulder hit harshly into the wood and echoed, reverberating through the wood and echoing into his muscles and into his bones. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain, leaping back and slamming his weight into the door again.

Adrenaline had his blood roaring in his ears.

He charged once more and this time the sound of cracking followed, wood splintering and caving under force.

One step back again.

One more rush forward, the air slicing past him with waves of imaginary heat and searing pain into his shoulder and side.

The wood split off the metal around the knob and the door came swinging open as clouds of black billowed out above his head.

The smell of burning, of carbon, burning his mouth, nose, and eyes with familiar bitter pain. The stingingly having tears already prickling, panic spiking and his muscles seized with the fear to run. His eyes awaited to see licking halos of orange light pouring out towards him brighter than the very sun in the shape of clawing fingers eager to consume him.

His mind echoing with familiar screaming. Of a building collapsing and groaning in a hellblaze before his petrified gaze...

But the only bright thing to be seen was a bobbing wad of near magenta hair.

Poppy was standing on a stool in a pink bed robe and oversized bunny slippers with a broom in her hands, swatting at the fire alarm on the ceiling, the smoke hanging in the air but no visible source to be found.

“I—WAS—JUST—COOKING—BREAKFAST—YOU—STUPID—ALARM!” she yelled over the loud noise, accentuating each word with a swat of the broom. She hadn’t noticed Branch had burst into the room, the alarm far too loud for her to hear the door break open and her back was to him.

Branch wanted to feel relief but he rushed in, fighting past the paralysis and rushing under the veil of smoke and past her.

His eyes turned to the kitchen and he let out a strangled scream as he saw a pan blazing on the stove, the firelight haunting into his irises and seeming to stretch farther than they could actually reach.

He didn’t think, he didn’t even realize it as he lifted the fire extinguisher and yanked the pin free. The echoing of the metal pin clattering across the floor was lost to the fire alarm as he yanked the nozzle up and a cloud of foaming white followed with a gusting sound of decompression that smacked into his ribs.

Everything seemed to be moving so slowly as blood thundered in his ears and the alarm echoed on in the background.

He was like a horrible painter, the white chemical spray splattering all over the stove till not a hint of orange and red lived with a screaming cloud of grey blowing to the ceiling.

The fire alarm fell silent with the clattering of plastic on wood and it didn’t even register in his mind, not until the sporadic breathing of his lung had him dizzy.

“AGGGH BRANCH WHAT?!” Poppy screamed, jumping off the stool as she clutched the broom in her hands.

Branch tumbled back, the fire extinguisher falling free of his hands as he hit the counter of the island behind him and slumped. HIs legs shaking as he wheezed, starting with fright at the cloud of white and his eyes trailing up to the umbrageous misty of smoke.

“Hey—hey, hey, hey, I’m okay!” Poppy said quickly dropping the broom and waving her hands at him. “I’m okay, no fire! Well, there was a teensy fire, but no one was hurt!”

He was fighting to breathe and he couldn’t even hear her as he shook. Each wheezing breath passing his lips as they turned blue and he sunk to the floor.

“Well that was a lie, I do have a kind of big burn,” Poppy frowned, looking at her wrist with a grimace. “Do you have any band aids?”

Branch was shaking violently, the tremors running down his arms as they finally gave out. He was splayed on the floor, another cringing breath of air whistling out his throat as his eyes followed the clouds of carbon dioxide. His face was turning pale and blue.

“Branch! Hey, hey, look at me! It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m okay! You’re okay!” Poppy tried to cry soothingly as she rushed over, kicking the dislodged fire alarm in her haste. “You need—do you need your inhaler?! I’m getting your inhaler!” she yelped and jumped to her feet, running out of her apartment. She was back a moment later, pressing the small thing into Branch’s hands.

“Here, here, it’s right here!” Poppy cried.

Branch had nearly passed out, his eyes closed and as he felt the familiar little bit of plastic in his hands it was second nature to yank off the top and shove it into his mouth.

All sense of dizziness barely had his mind working enough to press the canister and release a noxious cloud of medication into his burning lungs.

He could feel the tears stinging his eyelids as he took a sharp hoarse breath of air still bitter with burning food. He blinked past the blearing liquid, finally seeing a concerned face hovering over his own.

“Are you okay? You’re okay, right? Do you need anything? Do I need to go get you anything else? Water? Ice? Uh, another inhaler?” Poppy fretted, clutching her head.

Branch let out a dizzying breath of relief, his hand rubbing over his face as his quickened heart attempted to slow.

“What— _cough_ —were you doing?” he demanded with a weak, gravely voice.

“Uh...I was trying to make pancakes,” Poppy said sheepishly, glancing at the stove. “That obviously didn’t wor— _ow_ ,” she hissed, yanking her wrist away from her knee and clutching it, frowning. “Ow. This is really starting to hurt. But—are you sure you’re okay?” she asked him seriously, her eyes wide. 

Branch immediately shoved himself up and grabbed her arm, ignoring the ache of his lungs and his entire torso, especially his sore shoulder.

His icy blue eyes glared down at the burn covering her wrist with splotchy red and white marks and angry swelling. A few blisters glaring at him from the spot the size of a baseball.

“We have to get you to the hospital,” he growled, shoving himself up with another cough.

“I think I’m okay, I just need some ointment—.”

“You’re not fucking okay!” he snapped. “You have blisters and it’s definitely at least a second degree burn! I’m taking you to the damn hospital!” he seethed with a blazing blue glare.

“Uh—okay, okay,” Poppy blinked. “Calm down, I’m not gonna die. Ah… do you have a car? Or just take my car I guess, my keys are right there,” she said, pointing with her uninjured arm at the bowl on the countertop.

He grabbed the keys with one quick swipe and with the other hand grabbed a white kitchen rag and ran the water.

His mind was single minded and focused as he drenched the cloth in cool water and then wrung the rag free of any extra moisture. He turned back around and gently wrapped it over her wrist, flinching as she hissed and cringed in pain.

With a stern expression he finished coiling it around and stepped around her.

“Let’s go, let me just get some shoes real quick,” he muttered and quickly rushing out past the broken door as the keys jingled in his hand and he turned straight into his own apartment.

“Hey uh, can we go to Rose’s place?” Poppy asked, clutching the towel wrapped around her arm as she followed.

Branch paused, glaring back at Poppy as he grabbed his shoes and his wallet.

“She works at the hospital, that’s where we are going,” he stated confused as he shoved his wallet into the pocket of his sweats.

“I mean like ask for her specifically, not just go to any emergency room,” Poppy shrugged, grinning a little at him.

“Okay…” he frowned, not seeing the difference. Well, he did. “Can you text her and make sure she’s at work today?” he asked the frown as he looked at her wrist.

“Yeah, yeah, one seeeeec,” Poppy sung, digging her free hand into her pocket and taking out her phone.

He immediately regretted his suggestion but it was too late as he shoved on the shoes without socks and grabbed his apartment keys.

He didn't care he was wearing an old grey t-shirt and his hair was a mess as he headed back towards the door where Poppy stood.

She was texting with one hand, biting her tongue in concentration till it stuck out past her mouth. Branch locked the door and then walked to her door and shoved the broken thing closed as far as it could go in his haste. He glanced at her worriedly and when she made no move to walk he sighed and grabbed her arm, tugging her along and leading her down the veranda.

“Aaaaaanndd…. Sent!” Poppy grinned, waving the phone in the air.

Branch checked his own pocket for his phone and immediately found it, only to pause when it buzzed.

He lifted it to his nose as they stopped before the stairs leading down and he glared at it.

Rose: _What happened to Poppy?! How bad is it?!_

_Fucking great._

“What the fuck did you tell her?” he growled, glaring at the pink haired girl with a scowl as they started walking down the steps to the gated parking lot.

“Just that I burned myself but you came to rescue me and now you’re driving me to the hospital,” Poppy said simply.

He grimaced at her. “But you didn’t ask her if she was even at work today?”

“No, I did!” Poppy frowned and her own phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down at it and grinned. “She’s at work! Says to come straight to her office. See, toldja!”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

It wasn’t long that they were before her dreadful pink mini-cooper. The thing might as well as have a target sign on it for the paparazzi and Google tracking, it was literally probably its own spot on the map.

He opened the door for her and as soon as she sat down he leaned in and buckled her belt in for her before closing the door. Grumbling silently to himself and with worry he unlocked the driver's side and slumped in, finding the interior far too small and the seat too close to the steering wheel.

Adjusting the seat back a bit he shoved the key into the ignition and drove off. It was an easy enough car to handle but he was a bit nervous doing so, trying to remember the last time he drove anywhere.

Thankfully the proverb, like riding a bike, seemed to apply. Just a bit, the brakes could kill to be a little more responsive though.

It was a long ass fifteen minute drive to the hospital and he swore every red light occurred only to piss him off, making his curse loudly each time he had to stop.

Poppy somehow found the audacity to hum. _Hum._ She was fucking burned and probably in horrible pain but she somehow found herself humming an upbeat tune.

Some malevolent force in the universe was not having mercy on his soul that day. He thought his teeth might get grinded to stubs at this rate as he waited for lights to turn green.

As they pulled into the hospital parking lot at long last, Branch looked around cautiously as he pulled into a free parking spot near the emergency hospital entrance.

“Thank you for the lift,” Poppy smiled, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door. She clambered out and closed the door behind her, clutching her wrist, her face flashing with pain for a moment. “Ow,” she hissed.

“Be careful!” he barked anxiously, already rushing towards her from around the car. He was by her side in seconds, cupping her arm and looking down at the towel with concern.

“I’m fine! Chill, man, chill!” Poppy waved at him. “‘Tis just a flesh wound.”

He huffed past his cheeks and rolled his eyes embarrassed. He turned away and pressed a hand to the small of her back, pushing her forward. He was vaguely aware of the contact, of the warmth of her skin seeping through her shirt to his hand. He ignored it.

His only goal was the hospital doors and his eyes glancing around to make sure he spotted no cameras. Shit, he should have told her to wear a jacket with a hoodie.

They entered the hospital and walked down a few corridors, searching for a particular room. The clean white walls glaring around them and no face seemed to care about them.

So far they passed no one of interest but every step he was tense and he finally had let her go, crossing his arms as he grimaced.

“Theeeree’s her office!” Poppy grinned, pointing as she spotted their destination. They approached and Poppy rapped her knuckles on the wood. “Rose? Oh, Doctor Rosie?” she said in a sing-song voice.

The door swung open and irritated green eyes glared at her, red hair tied tightly back in a ponytail. “Did you just call me Rosie?”

“No,” Poppy smiled sweetly, and then jutted out her bottom lip in a pout, showing her injured arm to Rose. “I got an owie.”

Rose groaned, her hand rubbing over her face as she stepped out, her white coat fluttering out around her. Her hands immediately grabbed Poppy’s wrist and gently unrolled the towel from around her arm, Poppy hissing in pain.

Branch watched, glancing around occasionally as Rose examined the burnt skin.

“Second degree burn,” she muttered as she gently moved the arm under the light to inspect it. “Let’s go to a room and take care of it. Do you have painkillers at home?”

“Uhhhh…” Poppy blinked. “Maybe? If I do they’re in a box, I’m not one-hundred-percent moved in yet.”

“I’ll prescribe you some then,” Rose said calmly, leading Poppy away and only glancing back at Branch. “You stay here, wait in my office if you like.”

“Got it,” he muttered, not having moved an inch.

He watched the two women vanish down the hallway and into another room. He blinked and turned his gaze to the door left ajar.

Quietly he pushed it open and slipped in.

He hadn’t been in here for a while, the office was neat and organized and the walls too white and clean. Diplomas and certificates hanging on the wall and on the shelves were championship trophies from martial arts. A few photos on the desk which made him pause.

He snorted, smiling softly as he saw one of Rose and Poppy hugging for a picture. Another one with Rose and his brother, goofing off and giving each other bunny ears for  the camera. The last one, had him balking.

Branch reached down for the burgundy frame, lifting it to his face as he peered down at the group of young smiling faces from middle school. Him, Thistle, Poppy, and Rose...all together… Before...

With a sigh he set it back down and sunk into a seat and took out his phone.

He stared surprised at the number of text messages. A few he had missed from Rose and a few from his brother.

He opened them up and was surprised to find an apology first.

Thistle: _Bro, sorry about yesterday. Call me, alright? If you need something, anything...just tell me._

Branch forced a lump down his exhausted throat, reading the next message.

Thistle: _Rose just texted me. Is Poppy okay?_

Branch sighed, the phone slumping to his lap as he looked at the ceiling for a moment. His thoughts swirled, finally calming down but not all that calm.

He needed relief. Anything to get his anxiety to lessen and his nerves not to feel so frayed. He swallowed, he needed to apologize to his brother too.

Looking down at his phone, Branch took on last breath and texted his brother back.

Branch: _Poppy got burnt. And...it’s fine. I want to talk to you. Are you busy today?_

He let the phone fall to his lap and he looked around with a frown. Rose’s office was a bit intimidating, he couldn’t believe she was still going to medical school and working on _several_ specialities in the medical field. She was ambitious, it was admirable but Rose had always been fiercely intelligent, even graduating from private school and college early.

His cell phone buzzed and he glanced down at it.

Thistle: _Uh….I am busy today. I’m at work right now and later I’m going out for drinks with some company._

Branch frowned, so his brother was going to go out with Carter? Business? Or did he have a date with Rose…? In which case, Branch didn’t want to be a third wheel for sure. Though he doubted his brother had finally asked her out. They were always both too busy these days.

His phone buzzed again before Branch could even think of a reply.

Thistle: _Want to come with us? It’s a low key place, not a lot of people. You don’t have to worry about a crowd or anything._

Branch blinked, not having expected the invitation. But damnit it all if he could do with a drink after today...

Frowning, he hesitated for a moment before sighing.

Branch: _Sure. I could use a drink. Do I need my fake ID? Who are you going with?_

Thistle: _No ID. I know the owner. Just a friend, you’ll meet him._

Branch grimaced at that. It was vague and had his skin itching the wrong way, usually his brother wasn’t vague with him unless he wanted to surprise him. He groaned at that and texted back.

Branch: _Fine. But just because I need a fucking drink and to talk with you._

Thistle: _I’ll pick you up at 7._

Branch: _Just tell me where it is, I’ll get there myself._

Branch impatiently waited for a message, glancing at the door and finally a few moments later the little device vibrated in his hand.

Thistle: _Stubborn. I’m picking you up. End of story. You’re not walking there, it's across town._

Branch grumbled and growled as his brow pinched.

Branch: _FINE._

He shoved his phone in his pocket and sighed. He found himself playing with his fingers as he waited and hsi soreness grew more apparent. He’d need painkillers when he got home as his thoughts started to run a marathon.

By some mercy the door opened and he looked up.

“You got that?” Rose pressed as she led Poppy into the room with a freshly bandaged wrist. “Do you need me to write some instructions?”

“Yes, I got it,” Poppy nodded. “...But… on the slight chance that I forget… maybe you could repeat everything you just said? Heya Branch!” Poppy smiled, waving to him.

Rose groaned, letting out an irritated laugh as she rolled her eyes. She looked at Branch and paused.

“Wait! Better idea, Branch knows how to clean burns,” she smirked. He froze, frowning deeply as his eyebrows shot up and he stared at the two ladies.

“Are you saying Branch should clean out my burn when I need to change the bandages?” Poppy blinked.

“Yes,” Rose smiled and looked at Branch again. “Can you do it, Branch? I’m afraid she’ll do something dumb like putting cream on it. It’s just for a few days, once in the morning and once before bed with some prescribed iodine, some aloe, and fresh bandages.”

“I—hey! I am not _dumb,”_ Poppy blanched, very offended. “Goofy, maybe, but I’m not… am I?”

Rose snickered, patting her shoulder. “I didn’t mean dumb. Just...mm...a bit naive?” she shrugged.

“You meant dumb,” Poppy deadpanned.

“I’m not the one that put the ingredients in the pan and tried to mix them there and cause a small fire by burning the sugar,” Rose retorted.

“I—it was an accident! Nothing really happened!” Poppy defended herself.

“Admit it, you never learned how to cook,” Rose sighed.

“I...I uhm...” Poppy sat down heavily on one of the chairs in front of the desk, a large pout on her face. “No. I don’t know how to fucking _cook,_ a fundamental skill you need to live on your own. So much for trying to be an independent adult!” she cried, throwing her hands into the air and then winced, clutching her hurt arm. She frowned down at it, her brow pinched. “Maybe.... this was a mistake,” she muttered under her breath.

Rose patted her shoulder, looking worried as she tried to reassure her.

Branch was staring, nothing at that point really registering. “You...don’t...know…how to cook,” he finally echoed out in disbelief.

“Unless you count cereal or microwavable foods or baking cupcakes, no. I don’t,” Poppy huffed, looking at her feet.

Branch blinked. Poppy was a walking disaster. How the hell was she going to survive!?

An audible slap resonated in the room as he smacked his own face, the pain inching across his skin.

“Ouch,” Rose echoed, watching them.

“But—I’m sure I can learn well enough,” Poppy brightened up, her down mood not lasting long. “I can watch video tutorials of baking stuff, I can do it! You know, just because I failed once doesn’t mean I’m going to fail every time!”

Branch sighed, his hand falling from his face. She was going to burn them and everyone else to the ground unless he prevented it. He couldn't trust Poppy and videos not to prevent this kind of incident from happening again.

“I’ll teach you,” he interrupted the following silence. “Starting today—can she use her hand?” he asked looking at Rose who was nodding before Poppy even spoke.

“I can use my hand just fine,” Poppy frowned, flexing it.

“Then starting today I’m teaching you how to cook,” he muttered. Poppy brightened up, one of those beautiful smiles spilling across her face that made his heart catch. Damn. She was going to kill him either way.

“Thank you!” she said happily.

“And the burn?” Rose demanded.

“I’ll take care of that too,” he nodded to her and she smiled appreciatively.

“It’s a good thing we’re neighbors now,” Poppy giggled. Then she frowned. “Uh… hey, you’re gonna fix my door, right? You kinda... broke it.”

Branch opened his mouth and then closed it, groaning as he rubbed his face.

“I’ll call maintenance and pay the damage,” he sighed.

“No, actually, you don’t have to pay for it,” Poppy said quickly. “I scared you with the fire alarm. I’ll pay for it, no worries.”

He opened his mouth to argue.

“Alright, kiddos! Time to go,” Rose shoed and ushered them towards the door with one hand as she ripped a prescription sheet off a pad with another. “I have work to get to, argue about this by yourselves,” she said sternly handing the piece of paper to Poppy. “And please, Poppy, no more fires in the future?”

“I’ll do my best,” Poppy grinned, giving her two thumbs up as she walked out the door, Branch following suit.

“Oh, and Branch?”

He frowned, turning around to look at Rose.

“She also doesn't know how to clean or wash clothes. Pretty much she’s hopeless. So if you don’t mind helping out there too...” Branch stared lost, wondering how this spoiled rich girl had survived till now…

Oh, wait. There was the answer. Duh.

Poppy was spluttering, whirling around.

“I know how to wash my clothes!” she cried with a constricted voice that didn’t sound very convincing.

“Your maids didn’t do that for you too?” he deadpanned, staring at her.

“I—uh—you—,” Poppy’s cheeks were flared red and she looked away. “...Come on, man, cut me some slack! I’ll figure this out,” she pouted.

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Oh my gosh! Poppy Corona!?”

“That’s my cue,” Rose said suddenly closing the door to her office. Branch balked and turned panicked eyed down the hallway to a couple of girls in hospital gowns came rushing up to them.

Poppy turned wide eyes but flashed a bright smile and waved.

“Helloooo,” she giggled.

“Oh my gosh it is you!” one girl bounced on the balls of her feet, no older than sixteen.

“Can we have your autograph?” the other squealed. Branch was cringing, turning away and looking for an escape.

“Yes of course! Only I don’t have anything to autograph with,” Poppy replied with a pout, patting her pockets.

“I’ll get something! I’ll be right back!” the first girl squealed, rushing off.

The other girl stayed, watching with starry hawk eyes like Poppy might vanish.

“I really loved your last concert! You and the Snack Pack were _so cool!_ ”

“Oh, _thank you!”_ Poppy gushed, clutching her chest. “You were there, huh? Did you like the glitter bomb explosion at the end?”

“I loved that part!!! I was in the front row, I got out of the hospital just for it that day! It was so amazing!” she grinned excitedly.

Poppy was genuinely touched and found tears pricking her eyes, pressing her hands to her cheeks.

“You’re so sweet!” she cried. “Thank you! I can take a picture with you, too, if you like!”

Branch stared at this girl, his nerves on end but she didn’t even look at him. She was bald and she had one of those chemotherapy tags...which only could mean one thing. A cancer patient. Nothing could suck more, it truly put life into perspective.

The other girl came rushing back, her lanky figure and bald scalp echoing the same condition as she pressed paper and pen into Poppy’s hands.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Poppy!”

“Oh, I hope I didn’t make you rush yourself too much,” Poppy frowned, worried.

“I’m fine,” she grinned, clasping her hands together. “Are you okay? Why did you come to the hospital today?” she asked worried, looking at Poppy’s wrist.

“Oh, I was a doofus and burned myself trying to cook breakfast,” Poppy sighed dramatically and leaned forward. “Don’t tell anyone, but I can’t cook to save my _life._ My friend there is gonna give me lessons,” she grinned, jerking a thumb at Branch.

The two girls giggled and finally glanced at him making him blush and look away.

“Alright, if you say so. Now… something to write on…” Poppy muttered, twiddling her pen in her hands.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend? Can’t Creek cook?” the second girl asked excitedly, eyes brimming. Branch cringed with the question, his skin crawling.

“Oh, he can cook, but he has this ‘no sugar’ diet thing going on and honest—wait, wait, hold on, he’s not my boyfriend,” Poppy giggled nervously. “We aren’t a thing, hun.”

“Oh—but Lady Sparkle’s Magazine said you two were finally totally a thing after the romantic washup in Hawaii!”

“Yeah, the one where he saved you from almost drowning? Did that really happen?”

“What!?” Branch coughed, looking at her. How the fuck did he miss news of her almost drowning?! What fucking source was this? Was it reliable?

Poppy’s cheeks grew red but she sighed.

“Magazines are always blowing stories out of proportion, I just lost my surfboard that’s all,” Poppy assured them. That explained it and Branch huffed. “And no we aren’t a thing… I mean, not that I wouldn’t want it to be a thing but we haven’t really made any… moves? So. Yeah. Hey Branch, do you have paper?”

“They just gave you paper, you dunce!” he snapped looking at her hands and trying to ignore her red cheeks and the statement she had just uttered that had his chest stinging painfully in a new way. The girls gasped at his rude comment, looking at him aghast.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Poppy snorted, realizing she was holding paper in her hands, walking over the wall and propping the paper against it to sign her name in fancy lettering. “And don’t mind him, girls, he’s just in a bad mood. I scared him today with the fire alarm, I am kind of a dunce today,” she grinned. 

Branch grunted, ignoring the soft glares of the two girls as they followed Poppy and told her their names. He had to grin and bear it...

Well, bear it. No way he was fucking grinning.

He waited for the torture to be done with as Poppy even gave the two girls a hug and a group selfie opportunity before Branch was finally able to push her towards the pharmacy and then out the door before any further fans saw the ostentatious hair that was like a red herring to his health.

Finally out the doors and safely back in her car, Branch felt himself relax slightly as he let out heavy breath and turned on the ignition.

He glanced at Poppy who was reading the labels of her medication, humming to herself again looking giddy. Like getting burnt had been worth it. Not like it would leave her a permanent mark.

“I love my job,” Poppy said out of the blue, turning to Branch with shining eyes.

He glanced at her, a frown permanently on his face this morning as he pulled out of the parking lot. He had no comment for that, looking  a little sullen and guilty as he turned his eyes ahead.

“I just love… that I can bring happiness to those girls,” Poppy went on with a sigh, that grin seemingly plastered on her face. “I’m happy that doing what I love gives them happiness.”

Branch chewed his lip, feeling like an ass as he remembered her hurt expression yesterday. Of all times, it was cropping into his head now and haunting him.

“You okay?” Poppy frowned, cocking her head at him. “You look like you ate a lemon head.”

“I’m sorry,” he finally uttered quietly.

“For what?” Poppy blinked.

“For being an ass yesterday,” he sighed, leaning back into the seat as he clutched the steering wheel. “You didn’t do anything and yet… I was an ass,” he said simply. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Poppy said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You were in a bad mood and I should have recognized that.”

“That’s no excuse,” he muttered. “I was an ass to all three of you.”

“Yeah, you kinda were.” He visibly flinched. “But, there’s no time like present to be a better person than the one you were yesterday,” Poppy smiled kindly at him. “You’re a good guy, Branch. Sometimes I think you just need someone to help convince you of it.”

He scowled at this point, glaring at her. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Point is, I forgive you,” Poppy shrugged. “Now, what were you thinking of starting me off with in these cooking classes? Am I gonna learn how to cook bread? Hambergers? Eggs? What?”

He sighed, she was so easy. Sometimes it seemed there was no thinking behind it. Just like that, he was forgiven. Why did he still feel like crap though? Why did he want her to yell at him and tell him to straighten himself out? Get an attitude adjustment? Why was no one doing that? What was wrong with all of them? It couldn’t just be him. He was the one that was screwed up!

He almost missed half of what she said. Almost.

“Eggs. Easy. Simple. You can’t fuck it up unless you really try,” he stated plainly.

“Great! Yay, I’m gonna learn how to cook!” Poppy grinned, pleased.

He turned a skeptical glare on her. She...was...excited...about cooking eggs…

Was she insane? How many loose screws did she have? Or were they down right missing?

“Yeah...okay…” he said looking at the digital clock on the dash: 11:02. “It’s a bit late for breakfast but we’ll make eggs,” he nodded, decided.

“Yaaayy!” Poppy beamed. “Oh, d’you think we can make eggs benedict? Or are we sticking to level one cooking?”

“Level one, Poppy. Level one,” he emphasized, not helping a short laugh at her ambition. He could only imagine her trying to make something more complicated like poached eggs.

“Fiiiiiine,” she drawled, pulling out her phone to text her friends to postpone their meeting.

“And no texting while in the kitchen!” he growled as he turned up the next street. “That’s how you start fires, by not paying attention,” he grounded out seriously.

“...But… what if I have a serious phone call?” Poppy asked with wide eyes.

“Then you turn off the stove and take the food off the heat,” he grumbled curtly.

“...Oh. Duh,” Poppy mumbled. She propped her feet onto the dashboard and resumed texting, her tongue sticking out in concentration.

Branch growled.

“Put your feet down! What if we get into an accident?” he cried exasperated. “The airbags will break your legs!”

Poppy sighed and put her legs down, crossing them instead.

He griped under his breath, muttering how she would be the death of him as he drove her back home and now worrying if someone would trash her place or steal her things because he had busted the door…

Fucking great.


	4. Bars, Nicknames, and Secrets

* * *

 

Thistle was grimacing as he tapped the black steering wheel of his Aston Martin, wondering how the fuck he was going to get through the night. Hell, how any of this was going to fucking work out was all he could think about as he pulled up to an apartment complex of high end homes.

His brother might kill him once he found out who he was bringing along for drinks…

Thistle grimaced. It wasn’t his fucking fault though, he swore...

“Heeyyyy, man!” The passenger door opened and a brown skinned man wearing a white jeweled button down shirt poked his head in, grinning a lopsided grin. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Guy,” Thistle sighed, already sagging back into his seat as he stared darkly ahead and waited for him to put on his seatbelt. Yes, he was friends with the famous band member: Guy Diamond. Honestly, it had all been a huge coincidence that they had met almost a year ago now and that had changed quite a few things in his life.

“Uh oh, you look like you’re in a bad mood,” Guy frowned as he plopped into the seat. “...Do you wanna reschedule? It’s fine if you do, I won’t mind,” he said earnestly.

“No, no, it’s just... ugh,” he sighed, his fingers going through his dark kept hair. “I told you I have a little brother, right?”

“Yeah,” Guy nodded, closing the car door. “Why?”

“Well I fucking invited him to have drinks with us.”

“Oh! Well that’s neat!” Guy grinned immediately. “I can finally meet this famous little brother!”

“Actuuualllllyyy,” Thistle drawled, gritting his teeth and hissing out a sigh as he put the car into drive and hit the gas to turn out of the gated community. “You might already, likely, know him?”

“...I do?” Guy blanched. “What’s his name?”

Thistle groaned. “Look you can’t fucking let anyone else know,” he said giving him a hard serious stare. “He would kill me.”

“Yeah, no, I’ll keep my mouth shut! I’ve kept it shut about you being Tao after all, I can keep a secret,” Guy simpered.

Thistle coughed at that, grimacing even more and looked away unable to meet Guy’s gaze. “Yeah, my little bro can definetly _not_ know that.”

“Wait, he doesn’t even know? Is it really just you and me?” Guy raised his eyebrows and Thistle nodded, frowning. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about singing, you know, I don’t know why you insist on the anonymity!”

“I just do, okay?” was his immediate response, slightly defensive. “Singing brings up really bad memories for us, especially my little brother. I don’t know how he’ll take it, he might laugh for all I know at this point,” Thistle sighed, thinking of the complex dilemma that was Branch. “Not to mention I’m already famous because of my dad, I don’t need to add more fuel to the fire.”

Guy slowly nodded and sighed.

“Alright, yeah, I kinda get it. I won’t say a word,” he promised.

Thistle nodded gratefully. “Thanks, man.”

“No sweat! That’s what friends are for!” Guy grinned, earning even a slight yet conflicted smile from Thistle that returned to a grimace a moment later. “How’s your shoulder holding up by the way? Keepin’ up with those pilates exercises?”

“Pffft, I stopped doing them while you were gone. Focusing just on the gym now and lifting more weights again,” he smirked more easily with the topic change, rolling his shoulders back to demonstrate their condition. It was honestly a habit, one he did often to ease the conscious doubt and assure himself he was healed.

“Hey man, don’t diss the stretches! Stretching is just as important as exercising,” Guy said sternly.

“I know, geez. I only did it as part of my physical therapy,” he brushed off. “And I’ve been off physical for the past three months, my shoulder is all good again,” he said actually grinning to share the news. “So no reason feel weird as the biggest guy in pilates with everyone freaking staring at my ass.”

Guy laughed.

“Only _one_ guy was staring at your ass, and _I_ took care of it,” he chuckled.

Thistle laughed, rolling his eyes. “Sure you did. _You_ weren’t the one staring at my ass and laughing when I fell over and I almost punched your face that first time we met.”

“Okay, I was laughing at you, yeah, but I wasn’t staring at your ass you suspicious nut,” Guy chuckled, rolling his eyes.

Thistle laughed, letting the robust sound echo in the cabin as he drove up the dark street and the skylights high above them as the skyscrapers shined.

Then it abruptly died as he cleared his throat, watching the streets again as his smile fell again and the comfortable feeling grew strained.

Funny how fucking close Guy lived to Branch and Poppy… But of course he lived in a  richer district, Guy’s family was loaded. Their last name was no damn coincidence.

Thistle’s let out a sigh before he began stiffening up again, chewing his lip as he turned on the blinker and turned right, heading for the apartments.

“Hey, Poppy lives around here,” Guy raised his eyebrows. “Who knew your brother lived this way!”

“Yeah, I know,” Thistle muttered, glancing at Guy and holding his breath.

“You’re getting tense again. Should I break out the mats in the car so you can do some pilates to relieve your stress?” Guy joked.

Thistle sighed and just spat it out before he choked on the words he was trying to avoid. “My little brother is Branch Oak.”

There was silence.

And then there was more silence.

Guy stared, his brain seemingly grinding to a halt as he processed these words. His dark blue eyes were wide open like a deer in the headlights, the smile frozen on his face.

Finally, he blinked.

“...Oh,” he croaked. He turned to face the front for a few moments before he suddenly slammed his hands down on the arms of his seat. “WAIT, _WHAT?!”_ he yelped.

Thistle cringed. “Yeeeeaaaah. That’s what I meant when I said you _might_ know him.”

“But—but, but, but—WAIT, HOLY FUCK, THAT MEANS BRANCH IS THE SON OF—Wait, holy **_FUCK_** _I am an idiot!”_ Guy slapped his head. “Oak! _Oak!_ You have the same fucking last _name!_ And holy fuck, you guys even _look_ similar, how the hell did I _miss_ that?! I guess it’s cause I always thought Branch was an only child, but holy _fuck_ I am dense!” he cried.

Thistle was grimacing, his shoulders tenser than ever and his expression guilty.

“Branch probably wishes he were,” he sighed. “He doesn't like to be associated with the family, you could say he’s been hiding from the family name since middle school.”

“I... actually that makes sense considering we’re talking about Branch,” Guy blinked. “He hates being in the spotlight so… yeah, I understand.”

“Yup, that’s my little bro,” Thistle sighed, glancing out the window.

“ _Wow…_ it’s like two completely different parts of my life just merged spontaneously. Wow.” Guy blinked, chuckling. “Does he know he’s going out with me?”

“Nope,” Thistle popped the word, scowling.

“Hah! That’s gonna be a surprise for him,” Guy grinned leaning his elbows on the arm of the seat.

“No kidding, try to go easy on him, will you? He’s not good with this sort of social shit. He’s worse than me,” Thistle sighed heavily pulling into the apartment's complex after he opened  the gate with the pin.

“Yeah, I know,” Guy muttered. “Believe me.”

“Do you still want to go?” he asked cautiously, glancing at him carefully as he pulled into a parking space.

“No, yeah, yeah, this doesn’t change anything,” Guy assured him. “I’m just a little more or less in shock at the moment. I’m probably gonna be cracking a lot of puns tonight. Sorry in advance.”

Thistle groaned, ready to say something in response. He froze however as a tap came at his window. Glancing over he pressed the button and found his brother’s face grimacing down at him.

“Um... problem.”

“Yeah?” Thistle echoed, wondering when he would notice Guy in the passenger seat and when he would be drowning in his brother’s yelling or grumblings.

“Uh...” Branch glanced away, scratching his chin. “I um... broke Poppy’s door this morning when the fire alarm went off in her place and…” he let out a loud groan and Thistle noticed his brother was blushing hard. “Her door won’t be fixed till tomorrow so she’s spending the night at my place, so… She wanted to know if she can tag along?”

Guy was suppressing a snort and pressing his fist to his mouth, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

Poppy suddenly pushed past Branch and grinned at Thistle, waving cheerfully as she nearly shoved her head through his car window.

“Heya, Thistle!” she said.

Guy suddenly let out a loud, bewildered bark of laughter.

Poppy blinked, finally noticed him. “Guy? What’re you doing in there?”

“ _‘Thistle’?!_ What the fuck, Theo?” Guy guffawed.

“Shut up, man!” Thistle snapped back, his face red as he turned to him trying to suppress his sudden embarrassment.

Branch was frozen, slowly peering in and finally noticing who was in the second seat.

“Man, you could’ve told me you already had a nickname, otherwise I wouldn't have dubbed you Theo!” Guy chuckled, poking Thistle’s shoulder teasingly earning a growl from his friend and only a redder face. He grinned at Branch and saluted him. “‘Sup, man!”

Thistle groaned, rubbing his face trying to get his blood pressure under control again. He was going to die, he was sure of it.

“Just get in the car. Yes, this is the friend I mentioned earlier. And we’ve been friends for almost a year now. Met him in my physical therapy sessions, okay? Can we go?” he muttered looking down at his hands and gripping the steering wheel harder.

“I can’t believe you guys know each other!” Poppy cried, grinning, hopping into the car.

“Pilates, _Thistle_ , pilates. Man up and say it,” Guy elbowed him.

“Guy, I will punch you,” he warned not looking up as he muttered the words quietly.

Branch slid in the seat behind his brother and kept staring confused and shocked.

Guy laughed but fell silent, sitting back in his seat with his hands behind his head.

“How the fuck are you two friends?” Branch suddenly asked.

“Ah, great question which Theo just answered a second ago,” Guy grinned, turning around in his seat.

“I know how! I mean _how_ ,” Branch emphasised exasperated, throwing his hands in the air. “You two couldn’t be more fucking different! What the fuck do you even have in common except some stupid stretches?!”

“What is it with you guys and dissing pilates?” Guy moaned. Poppy giggled.

“I’m not dissing it, man,” Thistle interjected as he put the car into drive and kept his glare on the road. “And we have plenty in common, Branch. Like, you do know Guy’s family are _the_ Diamonds, right? The ones that control the diamond industry here in America?”

Branch hissed, glancing at Poppy and then at his older brother for the crude hint.

“What? I didn’t say shit,” Thistle muttered already knowing what was going through his brother’s head without even glancing back at the rearview mirror.

“Say what?” Poppy blinked, confused.

“Yes, I am indeed a Diamond,” Guy said dramatically. “But alas… I’ve… erh, kinda been disowned, slightly? I mean not officially, Dad doesn’t want the press to find out and ruin our family reputation but…” Guy shrugged. “But I’m okay. I’m making do.”

“Uh-huh,” Thistle snorted, trying to hold down a laugh. “Well, secret is out. Now we all know each other. So, to add to the brother thing, Guy, I’ve known Poppy since we were kids too.”

“What—what?!” Guy yelped, whirling around in his seat. Poppy laughed.

“Yeah, I knew Thistle! Not as well as Branch since we separated schools at one point but I knew him!” she smiled.

“You know the girl I talked about?” Thistle added dourly, figuring it was the best time to just get everything out in the open. “Rose? Same Rose that Poppy is best friends with since kids too.”

“WHY the HELL is this world so fucking small?!” Guy cried, exasperated.

“I’d like to fucking know the answer to that question too,” Branch muttered, crossing his arms and leaning back into his seat. He glanced momentarily at Poppy, her dress and make up making him flush and look away again.

“I think this is great!” Poppy grinned excitedly. “Here are three of my favorite boys and we all know each other super well! This is fantastic!”

Thistle snorted. “Super well? I’m sure there’s still some secrets in there somewhere.”

“Thistle!” Branch snapped with a warning blaze in his voice.

Poppy blinked, looking back and forth between Branch and Thistle, confused.

“What?” she frowned.

“I wasn’t talking about you!” Thistle snapped back with an exasperated sigh making Branch huff and lean back, staring confused at his brother’s head. The tension in the cabin was growing slowly, rising and falling like the tide.

“Mmm. Some chicken wings sound good to me right now,” Guy muttered to himself thoughtfully, rather oblivious to the tension. 

“That it does, but until we get to the bar let’s just _all_ calm down,” Thistle grimaced, hitting the button for the onboard radio. A station sounded out, the end of a song echoing in the cabin by Imagine Dragons. Branch frowned, listening for a moment with some disinterest as he looked out the car window.

Thistle leaned back into his seat and focused on the drive, hoping he could find it in himself to relax with the music. That is until a familiar song started playing on the radio and had him scrambling on reflex to change the station as nonchalantly as he could.

“Wait don’t change the channel!” Poppy cried. “I love this song! Why does no one else like this song?”

“I love this song!” Guy grinned, immediately raising his hand.

Thistle glowered at Guy, who shrugged innocently.

“It’s a good song,” Branch agreed, quietly trying not to state it was one of his favorites.

Thistle nearly hit the brakes making the car jerk and everyone yelp in surprise. The car jerked forward again and Thistle turned shocked wide eyes to the backseat as the car quickly regained speed from the momentary jolt.

“Watch your driving!” Branch snapped, whacking him upside the head from the back seat. Thistle hissed, not even flinching as his stare hardened.

Guy was breathing heavily, looking as if he was trying _very_ hard and succeeding _very_ little not to laugh.

“You… guys like this song?” Thistle asked slowly, glancing back at the two in the back seats and ignoring the obvious answer he already knew from Guy .

“Are you kidding, it’s my favorite!” Poppy moaned.

Branch blinked, looking at her. “Really? It’s a bit of a sad song. I didn’t figure it was your kind of thing.”

“So? Sad can be just as beautiful and this is so. Fucking. Beautiful. I would love to do a cover with Tao someday, that would be the dream,” she sighed.

“Mmh, yeah. Creek and I made a bet, he thinks Tao is a famous singer who is laying low and is waiting to reveal himself for popularity sake,” Guy said casually. “I personally think he’s just shy.”

“See that’s what I think!” Poppy agreed in an instant.

Thistle was fuming, his face was red again as he shot a glare at an innocently smirking Guy.

“I really don’t care,” Branch shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind more of his music though if he made some. But in my opinion he’s not some known singer, someone would have recognized his voice by now with some voice recognition software and cross compared it with known songs and revealed who he is if he were famous.”

“You wouldn’t mind more of his music? Wow, now that is a high compliment coming from Branch,” Guy said, impressed.

Thistle was sweating in the front seat, white as a sheet and he smashed his lips together and stayed silent to those in the back and only Guy truly capturing his stiff expressions.

“It’s one of my favorite songs,” Branch shrugged. “I can relate to it.” He balked, suddenly clamping his mouth shut after that statement and looking away. Thistle snorted loudly, regaining some color to his face.

Poppy’s mouth had dropped open and she pressed her hands to her cheeks.

“You actually have a favorite song?” she squealed.

“No,” he immediately denied. Of course that’s all she focused on, not the fact that the song was about unrequited love and that he _somehow_ related to that. It was hopeless.

“You just admitted you liked it. You just _admitted_ it was your favorite!”

“I’m taking the statement back then,” he shot back.

“No take-backs! I have discovered the truth!”

Branch groaned, rubbing his face. “What are you? Five?”

“I’m just happy I found out something you actually _like!_ Admittedly it’s a sad song, but I approve of this sad song,” Poppy beamed. “So is it this genre you like? Do you like this type of singing or is it the style of music you like?”

Branch was red faced and refusing to speak, his mouth shut tight as he glared ahead.

“Braaaaaaaanch,” Poppy pouted, poking his side. “Come on, open up! Tell me your secretsssssssss!”

“No!” he snapped, swatting her hand away.

“Why not?” she pouted further.

“Because I don’t want to! Now will you please fucking leave me alone for five minutes?!” he yelled, drowing out the music. “I only came to this stupid thing so I can apologize to my brother and relax after all the stress _you_ put me through today!”

Thistle stiffened surprised, looking back.

“I already apologized for the whipped cream accident, I cleaned it up and everything!” Poppy shot back. “But I’ll say it again, I’m sorry! Sheesh,” she grumbled, crossing her arms and looking out the window.

Branch growled, his fingers making tense claws in the air as he suppressed the urge to grab something and break it. He let out an indignant huff and turned his glare away to stare out the window himself.

The music died and the rest of the drive continued on in silence. Uncomfortable, unending silence.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a long drive.

The car pulled up into a lit parking lot with few other cars. The luminous sign high above, ‘Balfour’s Grill and Bar’ shining down on them. The car engine died quietly and Branch was grimacing, already regretting coming.

He had already ruined the night with his attitude, just how the fuck was he going to get through it? He had to be careful with his intake of alcohol.

Guy unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door, stepping out and opening Poppy’s door for her, who beamed up at him as she got out.

Branch was already letting out a heavy sigh as he shoved his own door open and found his brother standing there with casual clothes for once. Well, as casual as Thistle got, he still wore a nice button up shirt but at least he was wearing jeans.

An unexpected arm slung around his shoulders and Branch stiffened.

“You okay?” Thistle whispered.

Branch was still, looking at him surprised. He frowned, his lips stiff as he refused to let it tremble as he felt his resistance shatter inside him and he reluctantly wrapped an arm around his brother.

“I’ll be better after a few drinks,” he sighed heavily. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

Thistle smirked, his hand coming up and ruffling Branch’s hair which he accepted this time without complaint.

“It’s fine. You got overwhelmed, I get it. Just bad timing.”

Branch sighed, slightly irritated. There goes his brother, always understanding and always quick to forgive. Just like fucking Poppy. Could he not have someone yell at him for once? It seemed only Rose ever did it or when he truly pissed his brother off. Not that he was going to go out of his way to earn such a result.

“Are we goin’ in or what?” Poppy asked eagerly, skipping ahead of the others. “I think I want some chicken wings, too!”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get going,” Thistle grinned, patting Branch’s shoulder and encouraging him forward.

Branch suppressed a loud complaintive groan as he walked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and staring at Poppy who was walking ahead of them with Guy. Why did she have to dress so fucking lovely just for a night out of drinks? It was torment. He rather see her in her usual casual clothes, which admittedly were no better but at least slightly. She just looked beautiful no matter what she wore.

He was doomed.

Branch let out a quiet sigh unintentionally.

Thistle glanced at him worriedly and then glanced at Poppy, giving his brother a silent reassuring and sympathetic rub on his shoulder.

The doors swung open and muted light poured out around them to reflect off the pavement. The was music quietly playing inside and it had an old rustic feel, the booths were wood and lined with red leather, there was a pool table, a karaoke station, a vacant dance floor, and just a few people at the bar. It wasn’t crowded, just like his brother promised and Branch let out a breath of relief.

“Hey, Poppy, wanna check out the karaoke station?” Guy suggested eagerly.

“Oh, yes!” Poppy immediately agreed.

Branch grimaced, wondering how the fuck the two were laying low. A hand patted his shoulder and he glanced at his brother.

“Don’t worry, the crowd here is older. I’ve come here over a dozen times with Guy and no one has recognized us yet. It’ll be fine,” he promised, already reading Branch's worried thoughts.

Branch grunted, not entirely convinced and tried to focus on any other thing. His brother came here often with Guy? He had to admit he was a little surprised, he could find time to get a drink but seemed to somehow ditch almost every date he got with Rose since his accident. It was odd, and he started to feel some worry as he glanced at his brother’s solemn and distant expression.

“Hey Theo, could you order my usual while Poppy and I sing along to some classic disney songs?” Guy grinned, turning his head as they walked away.

“Got it,” Thistle grunted.

“Can you get me a root beer?” Poppy asked. 

“Noted,” he smirked weakly, giving her a finger gun gesture.

“Thanks!” Poppy crowed and quickly dashed over to the karaoke station, Guy not far behind.

Branch glanced at her, grimacing still and keeping his eyes on the other people in the restaurant. None of them even blinked and he felt himself relax slightly as he and his brother veered off to a booth.

They sat down across each other on the booth and Branch let out another sigh. He seemed to be doing that a lot.

“Hey, Theo!”

Thistle looked up and Branch glanced with a skeptical look as he saw a girl with blonde hair tied back. Her apron sporting a shiny tag with her name, Elisabet.

“Hey, Liz,” Thistle uttered as she took out her ordering pad.

“Want your usual? Oh, and what can I get this guy here?” she asked, nodding to Branch.

“Yeah, mine and Guy’s usual,” he nodded. “Get my brother the same drink as me, also an extra basket of hot wings and a rootbeer. Do you want anything?” he asked, eyeing Branch.

Branch was frowning and he shrugged. “Hot wings? Are they any good?”

“They’re the best here,” Thistle assured with a serious nod.

“Yeah, can’t get any better than ours,” Elisabet nodded in agreement.

“Then I’ll get that,” he nodded, decided.

“Oh, Thistle! Can you order me some mozzarella sticks?” Poppy suddenly called over, her voice echoing across the entire bar and raising looks.

Thistle and Branch winced, grimacing together like a reflection.

“And mozzarella sticks,” Thistle sighed quietly.

“Did she just call you ‘Thistle’?” Elisabet blinked, looking over at Poppy confused.

“Yeah, it’s an old childhood nickname. I actually prefer it over my real name,” he stated evenly, glancing at the table and Branch frowned thinking back on their childhood and how his brother had gotten that nickname.

“Huh. Okay then,” Elisabet muttered, her eyebrows raised as she wrote down the orders. “Alright, be right back,” she winked and walked off.

Once she was out of earshot, Branch looked at his older brother who was looking flushed and uncomfortable.

“Theo?” he echoed with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s better than Theodore,” Thistle retorted, his voice gaining an immediate defensive cast. “It’s kind of grown on me, but I still like Thistle,” he said with a slight twitch of his lips daring to cut across his face.

Branch grunted, nodding once. He supposed it wasn't bad but it had an odd ring to it that seemed too hip and casual to match his brother and recalled Guy calling him that in the car. How long had that new nickname been around exactly? He wanted to ask but the words died in his throat.

They fell silent, staring at the coasters at their fingertips.

Thistle pulled out his phone and Branch watched, quietly tapping his fingers across the table surface.

Alright, this was uncomfortable for once. Why was that? Usually Branch would have opted for silence but tonight he was on edge and for once, the silence was bothering him. Nagging and echoing in his ears as music quietly danced over the conditioned breeze of the bar from the karaoke station.

“Sooooo…” he drawled quietly.

His brother looked up surprised, raising an eyebrow.

“How was your day?” Branch finally coughed, shrugging.

Thistle grimaced, his eyebrow somehow rising further up his face.

“Okay, what the fuck is up?”

“What!?” Branch found his voice on the defensive as he glared. “I can’t ask how you’re doing?”

“You usually don’t,” Thistle countered with an unimpressed expression. Branch flinched.

“Well, I’m trying to change that,” Branch huffed, looking away as he felt his cheeks heat up. “Trying an attitude adjustment like you’ve suggested a dozen and a half times.”

There was no denying the surprise on his brother's face as he stared at Branch. But boy did it hurt when Branch watched a pleasant smile start to cross his older brother’s face.

“Alright, I’ll play along. It was long. Yours?”

“Stressful,” Branch deadpanned. “I have to teach Poppy how to fucking cook _and_ do laundry.”

Thistle snorted loudly, pressing a hand to mouth to suppress a laugh.

“Teaching her how to be a functioning human being in society?” he snickered. “Sounds like a handful. At least she knows how to take a bath and shit, can’t imagine what a nightmare that would be to teach from scratch,” he spluttered out with a laugh, finally unable to contain it.

“Good grief that would be a _literal_ nightmare,” Branch shuddered. “Oh! And on top of that, she has no clue how to pay taxes and shit. She’s… she’s fucking _hopeless_ , I don’t know _what_ she was thinking moving out on her own, she’s clearly not prepared,” he hissed.

Thistle snorted, playing with a coaster between his fingers. “Well, she’s rich? She’s got accountants to deal with her taxes. You really don’t need to teach her that.”

“Doesn’t mean she shouldn’t at least know _how_ ,” he growled.

“True,” his brother shrugged. “At least you had a break today after she got burnt, right? Guy told me over text they were having a rehersal today?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got a few hours to myself. Spent it buying some more school supplies after cleaning the fucking kitchen,” Branch muttered. He paused, grimacing, wondering if he should tell his brother about accidentally signing up for a figure drawing class, but decided he didn't want his brother to laugh at him so remained silent. It was humiliating enough as it was.

“Try not to get too drunk tonight, alright?” Thistle suggested carefully. “You don’t need a hangover the first day of class and you’re a lightweight with alcohol.”

Branch glared at him. His brother shrugged innocently, it was the truth whether Branch wanted to admit it or not.

“Fine,” he growled.

The waitress from before had returned carrying a tray of drinks, and set them all down on the table in front of the boys.

“Here you go, your hot wings and mozzarella sticks will be out in a few moments,” she smiled, tucking the now empty tray under her arm. “Anything else I can get you boys?”

“I’m good,” Branch muttered, taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage and grimacing at the bitter numbing taste.

“How about you, _Thistle?”_ Elisabet winked at Branch’s brother. “Anything else I can get you?” 

Thistle was trying very hard not to grimace, not sure he liked how she used his nickname. But at this point he had mastered a charming business smile a long time ago as a necessity as he fought a natural scowl. Maybe he shouldn’t be so generous with the tips.

“We are good, Liz. Just—”

 _“Let it gooo, let it gooo! Can’t hold it back anymooooore!”_ Poppy’s loud boisterous voice was echoing over to them, Guy harmonizing with her in the background.

Both Branch and Thistle looked over the booth, frowning as they stared in the pink haired girl’s direction.

“Keep the drinks flowing,” Thistle muttered. “We’re going to need them.”

“Not a problem,” Elisabet winked and walked off with a smile. In the background Poppy was spinning around like a top as the instrumentals took over, obviously having the time of her life.

 _“My power flurries through the air into the grouuuund! My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all arouuuuund! And one thought crystalizes like an icy blaaaaast!”_ she was singing, flinging her arms into the air as though she were giving an actual performance.

“This is a nightmare,” Thistle groaned, rubbing his face as patrons turned to stare with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry,” Branch muttered.

“You’re suffering as much as me here,” he sighed, grabbing his beer topped to the top of the glass and taking a long drink. Branch nodded in agreement, picking up his own drink again.

Guy was suddenly by the table again, picking up his drink and taking a long swig.

“Ahhh, that hit the spot,” he sighed, throwing his head back. “Poppy’s having fun.”

“We can hear her,” Thistle affirmed with a dry laugh before sighing.

The music ended and there was suddenly the sound of clapping as some of the people sitting around applauded Poppy’s little performance. She bowed, happy and breathless.

“I thought you said she wouldn’t attract attention,” Branch hissed at them from across the table, his eyes shooting around anxiously.

“Uh, this is Poppy we’re talking about. Who _wouldn’t_ clap at that performance?” Guy snorted.

“I’m telling you the people here aren’t fans of that kind of music. Don’t you think they would have noticed Guy here already the last dozen times we’ve been here?” Thistle growled pointing at him with his thumb, as if the bedazzled shirt wasn't enough of a target for staring.

Branch glared, unconvinced.

“Scoot over man, I wanna sit,” Guy said, shooing his hand at Thistle.

Thistle grunted, raising an eyebrow at him and scooting sideways. Guy plopped down next to a stiff Thistle with a sigh, taking another long sip of his drink.

“Mmm, I do believe I see the chicken wings on the way here,” he perked up.

“Guh,” Thistle griped under his breath, rubbing his face as noticed Liz returning with that smile on her face and his discomfort only grew. “If she keeps fucking winking at me, I swear to fucking…”

“Hold on, man, I got this,” Guy grinned, patting his back as Elisabet approached them. Thistle was frowning deeply, already worried he knew what was coming, fighting a lump in his throat and trying to shift his gaze away but ultimately failing.

Branch snorted, rolling his eyes unsurprised by this behavior his brother usually got from the girls.

“Stop being so fucking nice already and maybe it’ll stop,” he said quietly.

“I’m not an ass like you on purpose all the time, you know,” Thistle shot back quietly as she arrived and Branch raised a skeptical eyebrow, crossing his arms.

Elisabet set the food on the table and looked back up.

“Anything else I can get you guys? Any refills?” she asked, her question mostly directed at Thistle.

“Ah yes, can you get my _wonderful_ boyfriend here another round please?” Guy simpered, draping his arm over Thistle’s shoulders and squeezing tight. Thistle stiffened, shooting him a glance as his face reddened. Branch watched bewildered, swearing he hadn’t seen his brother blush so much in a single damn day even out of anger since they had been kids.

“Uh… Uhm,” Thistle ended up coughing. He looked away desperately at Branch who snorted, grinning and holding a hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh. This was actually kind of priceless, watching his brother lose his composure and grow flustered.

“So _that’s_ how it is huh, bro? This why you wanted me to meet him?”

Thistle’s eyes immediately narrowed.

“Fuck you,” Thistle seethed, his face only getting redder as he made no move to shove Guy off himself.

“I’m pretty sure that’s _his_ job,” Branch cackled, pointing at Guy and Thistle’s face got only redder with fury. Guy wheezed with laughter, patting Thistle’s shoulder.

“...Ah, Sure,” Elisabet said in a slightly constricted voice and walked off rather quickly. Guy watched her go and lifted his arm off Thistle’s shoulders, tucking his hands behind his head. Thistle let out a sigh of relief, trying to suppress it but failing as he stared at the table’s surface and refused to look anywhere else.

“You’re welcome,” Guy grinned with a proud smirk.

“Ugh,” Thistle groaned, rubbing both hands down his face.

“That was the fourth waitress I’ve had to ward off for you, too! You need to start paying me,” Guy laughed, nudging his side.

Thistle’s head slumped onto the table with a loud bang. Another groan following.

“I don’t know,” Branch snorted, grinning widely at this point just watching the embarrassing reactions of his usually collected sibling. “You two don’t look half bad together. Just make it official,” he teased. Thistle turned up an icy glare in an instant, his cheeks not loosing their flustered shading as he looked ready to snap.

“Hah! Nah, man, I’m interested in someone else,” Guy said, his smile fading as he shook his head. He jerked a thumb to his friend. “Pretty sure Theo is, too.”

Thistle finally glanced sideways at Guy, just a second, sighing as he looked down again. “Yeah, you asshole,” Thistle retorted quietly at Branch who had been chuckling quietly to himself only for the laugh to die in an instant with that sullen tone. He frowned confused, staring seriously worried a this brother.

“Heya guys!” Poppy was suddenly at their table, obliviously interrupting the tense moment as she plopped herself down next to Branch. She was puffing hard as she shoved him sideways to make room for herself. “Whoo! That was fun! Ooooh, mozzarella sticks!” she brightened up and dug into the basket and stuffed one into her mouth.

Branch had been too busy brooding until he had felt her arm brush his own, his face growing beet red as he tried to scoot as far away as possible from her being pressed into his side.

Guy was looking back and forth between Branch and Poppy, a sudden curious look on his face as he noticed Branch’s reaction.

Thistle was smirking smugly, seeing a vengeful opportunity before him as Branch fidgeted and glared down at his drink which he took a heavy gulp of afterwards.

“Thanks for that as usual, by the way, Guy,” Thistle said with a nonchalant calmness that sounded characteristically unconvincing to Branch.

“Yeah, no problem, man,” Guy waved his hand casually, taking a sip of his drink. “Anytime.”

“I don’t suppose you do that for everyone?” he snorted, looking at Guy. “Happen in the Snack Pack often?”

“Nah, not really. But if anyone asked me to, I would do it in a heartbeat,” Guy said with a shrug. Poppy blinked, confused.

“You would do what in a heartbeat?” she asked. “Wait, I missed something.”

“Nothing, just pretend I was in a relationship with someone if they wanted to avoid being flirted with,” Guy said in a low voice behind his hand to avoid being overheard from unwanted ears. Poppy’s mouth formed an ‘o’ in understanding.

“Anyways, pretty sure Creek has that covered for you, Poppy, am I right?” Thistle smirked and Branch spluttered, choking on his drink as he turned a glare up.

“Uuuuuuhhhh, ehe, we—we aren’t a thing,” Poppy said, very flustered.

“Well, would you look at that,” Thistle said with a long pause meeting his brother's glare. “Still on the market, huh? Seems we all are, am I right, Branch?”

Branch gritted his teeth, balling up his fists on the table.

“Well, I’m saving myself for someone,” Guy said, leaning back in his seat. Branch glanced at him with a scowl and glared at his brother who wasn’t even meeting his gaze, but staring at his drink.

“Me—me too, I mean—well,” Poppy swallowed, tucking hair back behind her ear. “I dunno if Creek likes me like that but… I mean… ugh,” she muttered, pressing her face into her palms.

Branch flinched, his eyes casting down at his drink as his gaze lost it’s fire.

 _Ah, shit._ Guilt crossed Thistle’s face in an instant and he sighed with regret at pulling up the subject from the grave. He didn’t know why he had been stupid enough to hurt them both at the moment, just to get away from his earlier pain.

“Yeah, same, I guess,” he muttered unconvincingly, casting an apologetic glance at his brother who didn’t look at him.

“Here’s to unrequited love,” Guy said, holding up his glass. “Say, no wonder we all like that song so fucking much.”

“Fuck you, Guy,” Thistle grumbled despite the fact he was picking up his drink in agreement, slightly saluting it to the air before taking a long drink.

Branch sighed, just picking up the drink and quickly downing more than half of the bitter liquid. It ran down his throat and burning a hole in his stomach. Better than the figurative hole burning in his chest. Love fucking sucked.

Poppy picked up her root beer and swigged it, her cheeks bulging with the carbonated drink. She set it down and tapped her fingers on the bottle with a sigh. She perked up.

“Ooh, inspiration,” she muttered, quickly digging into her purse and taking out a very worn notebook and opened it up. She flipped to a new page and began to scribble down some words, her tongue poking out in concentration.

It got quiet as everyone focused on their drinks and picked at the hotwings; well, Branch and Thistle picked at them. Guy and Poppy ate with much more gusto, she even accidentally rubbed hot sauce on the edges of her page.

“You should use a different word,” Thistle mumbled as he watched her absently write on the page. Guy also watching intently.

“Eh?” Poppy looked up from twiddling her pink glitter pen.

“That’s just a weird metaphor, I know roses symbolize love but it’s a cliche. Make the line deeper, not so superficial,” he explained. Branch looked up confused, glancing at the page and then glancing at his brother with skepctical curiosity. Thistle cleared his throat and glanced away.

“Oh,” Poppy looked down at the page thoughtfully. “Okay… Never really written a song about this before, honestly I don’t even know what I’m writing,” she sighed with a smirk. “ _‘When I’m near you my mouth refuses to work’_... Yeah this is very cliche. I’m scrapping it,” she sighed, clicking her pen.

Branch snorted, looking back at his near empty drink. He only had read a few lines but he agreed, it was fairly cliche from his point of view at least. But right now he thought it best just to keep his opinion to himself, she hadn't asked for it and he had been enough of an ass to her today.

“Eh, I don’t think writing that sort of song is your thing, Poppy,” Guy said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, no way I can reach the level of awesomeness that is Tao,” Poppy smiled ruefully. “I’m better at writing upbeat motivational songs. Heartache just confuses me.”

Thistle snorted and choked on his drink, bringing the cup down and coughing as he beat his chest with a curled fist. Guy patted his back to help him out, an amused smirk on his face.

Branch frowned, staring at him concerned. He then glanced at Poppy, staring sullenly and enviously at her. She was lucky, Branch certainly fucking knew what it was like. He fucking wrote poetry on the damn subject more than any other thing. Made his damn short poetry collections a bloody national success.

He sighed, glaring down at the remnants of foam clinging to the bottom of the glass. Where was another fucking drink when he needed it? This is why he prefered to just have a pack at home when his brother bought him some rather than waiting around for a fucking refill.

“I think you can improve, though, Poppy,” Guy continued. “Maybe you just need to get some proper inspiration… oh there was this one really good book I read, damn what was the name,” he frowned, rubbing his chin. “It was a poetry collection and it was really good.”

Branch picked up his cup, staring at it and then out to the bar with a tired gaze, not really listening at this point with much attentiveness.

“Ah! ‘ _Your Eyes’_ , it was called _‘Your Eyes’_ ,” Guy remembered.

Branch stiffened, dropping his cup with a clatter and Thistle also froze, trying to use his best poker face as he grabbed a chicken wing.

“Oh yeah, Satin was talking about that book, she and Chenille were going crazy over it! I’ll have to ask to borrow it from them,” Poppy said brightly.

Branch grabbed a chicken wing from his basket and stuffed it into his mouth, trying by all damnation to fight the anxiety rising inside him. _Fuck!_

“It’s a shitty depressing book, don’t read it,” he grumbled past a full mouth.

“Excuse you, that book is a masterpiece,” Guy objected crossly. “I use it for inspiration to gather the courage to flirt with Suki.” Thistle and Branch both grimaced, staring at him as he continued. “My favorite goes like this; _‘Your eyes, like two pools, sparkling with radiance. So deep I fear if I fall in, I might never come up for air.’_ I mean that shit is award-worthy, am I right, Theo?” Guy cried.

Branch’s face was beyond red as he choked, coughing on the wing he was trying to chew. Nothing like having some personal lines thrown in one’s face, he should have edited those out.

Thistle was grimacing, running his fingers through his collar uncomfortably.

“Ugh... one sec, Guy,” he muttered pulling out his phone.

“It’s crap I’m telling you,” Branch argued vehemently, his voice hoarse as he coughed.

“How about I read it and judge for myself,” Poppy said sweetly. “People are entitled to their own opinion after all!”

Branch groaned, looking away as he muttered. “If you want to waste your time, sure, whatever. Do what you like.”

“Don’t you know anything about romance, man?” Guy complained. “Oh wait, sorry, forgot who I was talking to for a moment.”

Thistle punched Guy’s shoulder and passed him his phone, glaring slightly.

“Ow, sorry! Just teasing,” Guy pouted, rubbing his shoulder and looking down at the phone confused as he lifted his near empty drink and took a sip as he read. He suddenly spewed it a moment later back into the cup and some on the phone, eyes bulging as he stared at the screen.

“Dude, watch it,” Thistle growled, taking his phone back quickly as Branch and Poppy looked up bewildered and alarmed.

“S—sorry, sorry,” Guy coughed hard, “I gotta—hold on, just gotta step outside for a sec.” He quickly stood up and walked off quite stiffly, heading towards the exit.

“...Uh… should one of us go… what just happened?” Poppy stared after him, confused and bewildered.

“I’ll go make sure he’s okay,” Thistle sighed, standing up and following after Guy who was rushing off more quickly now.

Branch glared after them, a sinking suspicion in his gut as he stared.

“Poppy, could you move? I need to ask my brother something real quick,” he muttered, holding down a growl.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure,” Poppy said, quickly scooting out of the booth so Branch could get by. “Do I need to come, too?”

“No, no, stay here,” he said briskly as he pulled himself out of the booth and quickly walked past her. Not giving her another word or glance as he stared at the stilling restaurant doors.

Branch picked up the pace and rushed after his brother who had vanished through the front doors already after Guy.

As he neared the entrance he could hear the sound of muffled yelling from outside and his frown deepened. Tentatively, he pushed the door and opened it carefully.

“—ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?!” Guy was yelling, his voice a couple notches higher than before. “I use that book for INSPIRATION, for my music and flirting and only now do I find out _Branch_ wrote it?!”

Branch gasped, shoving the doors further open.

“Dude! Shut up!” Thistle snapped. “I told you that in confidence, if my brother—”

“Sorry, I’m just freaking—oh,” Guy stopped short as his eyes fell on Branch.

“YOU TOLD HIM?!” Branch screeched panicked, shoving the doors completely open until they squealed as he stepped out staring at his brother horrified.

Thistle balked, his face going pale as he turned around and stared at his brother.

“HOW COULD YOU FUCKING TELL HIM!?” Branch yelled, fury and betrayal running across his face with embarrassment. Tears daring to break past his eyelids. “That was our fucking secret, Thistle!”

His brother stared mortified, jaw slack and lost for words.

“Hey, hey, hey, I won’t tell anyone!” Guy said quickly, waving his hands. “I swear I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to, I understand if you don’t want people to know, I just—sorry, I just freaked out.”

Branch turned angry tears between Guy and Thistle, fuming, his fists clenching and unclenching as he processed this betrayal.

“I can’t fucking _believe_ you told him,” he hissed, glaring at his elder brother who was gazing back dismayed.

“Branch! I’m sorry! Look, I trust Guy, okay? I just didn’t want him to keep insulting you and just sprinkling salt with Poppy sitting right there!”

“What, did you tell him that too!?” Branch spat, throwing his hands in the air.

“Tell me—?” Guy’s jaw suddenly dropped. “Wait a sec, are you…?”

“No!” Thistle yelled, shoving a hand over Guy’s mouth and looking desperately back at Branch. “Of course I wouldn’t share something like that! Don’t you trust me?”

“Right now? No!” Branch spat back, shaking, fighting the tears running down his face.

“Wait!” Guy shoved Thistle’s hand off his face as he gawked at Branch. “I gotta ask this, but suddenly everything is making so much fucking _sense_ now! Branch, are you—you don’t have a crush on _Poppy_ , do you?”

“ _GAAAAAH!_ ” Branch screamed, throwing his head back and ripping his hands through his hair.

“Hey, hey, dude, it’s okay, I won’t breathe a word!” Guy quickly amended. “You can trust me, I kept—I’ve kept secrets for your brother before!”

Thistle stiffened, glancing at Guy for only a moment before looking desperately back at his brother.

“You fucking traitor!” Branch screamed, glaring at his brother. “I trusted you! What else—who else have you told?!”

“No one, I swear!” Thistle snapped back impatiently. “Rose already knew, I didn’t even tell her she just figured it—” he cut short as Branch let out an undignified howl, already pacing circles.

“He only told me because I kept his secret about him being—,” Guy snapped his mouth shut and eyed Thistle who could barely glare back, more concerned for his brother at the moment. “You know, should I just fuckin’ tell him?” he asked, jerking his thumb to Branch.

“No—”

“Tell me what?!” Branch snapped, turning to glare at his brother. “What? You got secrets from _me_ now? When _you_ conveniently know everything about me to spill whenever the fuck you want?”

Thistle flinched, scowling hurt at his brother and Branch wanted to flinch, to feel bad about those harsh words but he couldn’t at the moment.

“He _likes_ the _song_ ,” Guy said in a reasoning voice, shrugging.

Thistle looked at Guy for one moment, meeting his eyes and it seemed the shared gaze made the final decision. Thistle let out a long defeated breath, shoulders visibly sagging.

“Fine, you know what, you’re right,” Thistle sighed heavily, shoving his hands in his pocket as he stared only at his brother. “You should know. I know your fucking secrets and you should know mine, right? We’re brothers and I’m fucking sorry I opened my mouth, so let’s go make this even.”

Branch blinked, confused.

“In fact I’m going to go risk revealing my ass to the whole damn bar just to prove it, come on,” he said gruffly, walking forward and grabbing Branch’s shoulder and starting to drag him. Branch protested as his heels rubbed over the pavement.

“Woah, dude, you’re not about to do what I _think_ you’re gonna do,” Guy gaped as he followed after them.

Thistle didn’t answer him and he shoved his confused brother back into the bar. Branch was at a complete loss, emotionally trying to process what had just happened outside and now completely worried his brother was going to embarrass himself just to apologize.

“Thistle, you don’t have to—I don’t know what you’re thinking, you can just tell me!” Branch protested suddenly concerned.

“Shut up, sit down,” Thistle said, shoving his brother back down into his seat next to Poppy.

“Is everything okay?” Poppy asked, her eyes wide. “I’m pretty sure I heard yelling outside.”

“Fine,” Thistle said gruffly, walking past them towards the karaoke station.

Branch stared after him confused.

“Oh my god he’s gonna do it,” Guy gaped, sitting down slowly in his seat across from them.

“What is he doing?” Branch asked confused. “Don’t tell me he’s going to go make a confession over the mic!” he asked Guy anxiously.

“Even better! He’s gonna sing!” he cackled.

“Wait... what?” Branch echoed, completely lost. _Sing?_

“Sing?” Poppy blinked. “Wait, what’s going on?!”

“My brother doesn’t fucking sing,” Branch protested. “We haven’t even been in a choir since middle school!”

“Dude, shut up,” Guy said, holding up his hand and wearing the biggest grin on his face. “Just listen.”

Branch blinked, noticing his eyes were stinging and he quickly rubbed them dry of any moisture as he looked up, watching his brother messing with the machine up on the stage.

A familiar tune started to play over the speakers, the instrumentals echoing over the bar and no one truly turned a head except for the three of them in the booth watching him.

No lyrics sounded, no vocals. That is until after a long pause and sigh, Thistle lifted the mic to his mouth and started to sing, his deep voice coming out in a musical and familiar chorus.

“Hey, he kinda sounds like—wait… Wait a fucking moment,” Poppy’s eyes bulged. “Wait. Hold on, what the _fuck?!”_

Guy was wearing the smuggest grin in the world, leaning back in his seat with his hands clasped behind his head.

“Juuuuuust listen,” he simpered.

Branch stared flabbergasted, connecting two and two together quickly as he noticed a familiarity in the voice in a damn instant.

No way.

That couldn’t be right.

That was _impossible!_

Was his brother— _No. Fucking. Way._

This had to be a fucking dream or a nightmare.

Would this even be categorized as a nightmare?

He couldn’t be sure as his brother sang the lyrics perfectly to the instrumentals, his voice perfectly matching the song they all knew like it was prerecorded.

“I—I’m confused,” Poppy turned to Guy perplexed. “What is happening?!”

“I may or may not know a certain secret about a certain anonymous artist,” Guy winked, looking at Branch.

Branch was still staring at his brother in shock, not even listening to Guy or Poppy on the table.

Heads were turning in the bar, listening to his brother sing and watching his quiet performance with interest. By the time the song ended Branch felt his jaw had unhinged and some part of his mind was wondering if flies had camped inside his mouth at some point.

Clapping rung around the room and his brother ignored it as he grimaced, setting the mic down back on the machine and stepping down from the platform. He wore a serious and solemn expression as he walked back towards the booth, ignoring any calls or requests for a second song and the audience soon fell silent as they realized he was going to ignore them.

Thistle stopped before the booth, standing and staring at Branch directly who stared silently back.

Poppy’s jaw was practically touching the table it was dropped so low.

Thistle finally sighed, shrugging his shoulders as his voice came out in a whisper.

“Well, that’s my secret.”

“Are you fucking telling me…” Branch started slowly, staring skeptically.

“Thistle—are you _Tao?!”_ Poppy hissed in a high pitched whisper.

Thistle groaned, his head sagging to the side as he rubbed the back of his neck as he gave a single mute nod.

“Whaddya guys think _‘Tao’_ stands for?” Guy grinned.

Branch blinked, the odd name clicking in his head as the wheels turned. He groaned, letting out a laugh as he smacked his own forehead.

“Are you fucking serious, Thistle? Your initials?” he snorted. “How uncreative can you get?”

“I wouldn't be laughing if I were you,” Thistle retorted with embarrassed and slightly inflamed cheeks as he glared.

Branch paused, thinking of his own pen name and he grimaced, nodding in agreement afterwards. Yeah, they were both pretty obvious when both looked at carefully. He was no one to talk at this point.

Poppy had gone as white as a sheet as her eyes bulged, clutching the table till her knuckles were white as she stared at Thistle.

“Uh, oh, you broke Poppy,” Guy chuckled, leaning forward and waving a hand in front of her face yet earning no reaction.

“Great,” Thistle huffed. He looked at Branch. “Do you forgive me?” he asked quietly, hopefully.

Branch blinked, having forgotten the earlier fiasco at this point. He snorted, rolling his eyes and crossing his arm. This did make it pretty even, enough to make him feel even guilty.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess,” he grumbled.

Thistle grinned widely and relieved, letting out a sigh as he sunk back down into the booth next to Guy. Looking more tense than Branch even felt, if anyone needed a drink tonight it was his brother.

“Uh… Uh… **_what?!”_** Poppy cried.

Branch blinked, remembering Poppy and Thistle finally seemed to notice her too.

“Hey, Poppy, back on earth?” Thistle teased, trying to grin but it was a bit forced.

“You—but—how—you—I—,” she spluttered.

“It’s a secret,” Thistle reminded quickly as her voice kept rising.

Poppy clamped her jaw shut but she still stared at Thistle with wide eyes. Slowly she stood up, scooting out of the booth.

“Excuse me for a moment,” she said hoarsely, quickly walking off to the front door.

“What’s with everyone needing a break outside tonight?” Branch groaned, watching her  a bit concerned.

“She needs to go scream from her brain exploding just now,” Guy chuckled. “She’ll be fine.”

Branch frowned a bit unconceived but honestly a good scream would do him good right about now, or another beer. He glared at his empty drink, all their drinks were empty.

Where was the damn waitress?

“You can't ever let Poppy or anyone else know I wrote those poetry books,” he suddenly hissed, glaring at Guy pointedly.

“Hey, man, I gotcha,” Guy said, raising his hands. “Same reason Thistle kept mum about his song, right?”

Branch grunted, looking a little more relieved as he looked at his brother with still wide eyes. Slowly a grin spread across Branch’s face.

“I can't believe it, _you’re_ fucking Tao. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?” he grimaced in the end, staring hurt and confused.

Thistle shrugged his big shoulders, letting out a heavy sigh as a thrilled high pitched scream was heard from outside. Heads turned curiously to the door.

“Because he was embarrassed or something like that,” Guy answered for him. “He thought you would laugh at him.”

Thistle frowned, glancing at Guy. “That and…” he sighed looking at the table. “I know how you feel about singing since—well, you know,” he shrugged and Branch frowned, looking down at his hands. “Not to mention, it’s a damn unrequited love song. That’s never easy to share, especially not _that_ kind of love song,” he sighed agitated.

Branch smirked dryly at his brother in understanding.

“Guess we’re the same, huh?”

“Making love shit for our crushes? One hundred percent,” Thistle agreed drearily, sagging back into his seat and looking out towards the bar.

“...I still can’t believe you wrote that fucking book,” Guy muttered under his breath, staring at his drink.

Branch glared at him, scowling. “I’m not exactly made of ice, you know.”

“Hey, word to the wise, though,” Guy looked up, suddenly stern and making even Thistle look back. “If you really _do_ like Poppy all that much, don’t be so harsh to her. Okay? She just wants to help you out and I’m not gonna tolerate any more hurt feelings. I care about her too, you know.”

Branch’s brow knitted together and he groaned, looking down at the cup he was squeezing between his fingers.

“I try, alright?” he grumbled quietly. “But it’s not fucking easy for me.”

“Try harder.”

He grimaced more deeply until the lines nearly cut down to his chin.

“That’s what I’m trying to do here,” he sighed, looking up at his brother and meeting his gaze, making him pause and stare back surprised. “Attitude adjustment, right? I’m trying to not treat you both like shit... it’s just... not easy, I’ve been doing it so long and...” he sighed, hanging his head as he rubbed the glass cup between his fingers sullenly.

Guy seemed satisfied enough with that answer and leaned back in his seat with a nod.

“At least you’re trying,” Thistle smiled softly. “Just don't beat yourself up for messing up once in awhile, alright? I get your anxiety, it’s not a crime.”

Branch let out a heavy breath, feeling like his shoulders might sag into his chest. It was still no excuse. Why did his brother have to be so damn nice to him when he didn’t deserve it? Hell, Poppy too.

Another waitress, not Elisabet, suddenly stopped at their table and refilled their drinks with a smile before walking off. Guy snorted but said nothing, taking a large sip of his drink.

“Finally,” Branch muttered, taking a deep drink of the alcohol and feeling a little more numb. 

“Well, I’ll say tonight has been a very… interesting night,” Guy said, smacking his lips. “What other secrets do we not know about, eh? Is one of you secretly a goddamn fairy or a troll or something? No judging if you are. I think one of my great-great-grandparents might have been an elf but I’m not entirely sure.”

Thistle snorted, shaking his head and Branch let out a sarcastic chortle at the idea.

Poppy was back looking a little less pale but still shocked, a wide ecstatic grin on her face as she plopped herself back into the booth, swigging the rest of her root beer.

“I can’t fucking _believe this!”_ she laughed giddily, slamming the bottle down. “This is the craziest day of my _life!”_

“No kidding,” Branch muttered, taking another drink and finding his beer half gone again.

“Oh, Thistle! Do you think we could—,”

“I am _not_ recording a cover with you, Poppy,” Thistle quickly stated.

“ _Awwwww_ ,” Poppy whined, slumping in her seat. “But… maybe just for fun? Or in private and still keep your anonymity? Please?” She clasped her hands together and gave him her best puppy eyes, pleading silently.

Thistle gazed calculatingly for a moment, his lips pursed as he contemplated this. He glanced at his brother and his expression immediately changed but grew veiled.

“Alright, but you have to do me a favor in return, other than keeping my identity secret, and I mean from everyone—including your friends!”

“Of course!” Poppy crowed, jubilant. “Oh my gosh I’m so excited, I can’t believe I get to do this!! EEEK!” she screeched excitedly and quickly slapped her hands over her mouth. “Sorry. What do I gotta do?”

Thistle smiled and shrugged. “We’ll talk about it later, alright?”

Both Branch and Guy were left staring curiously at him.

“Okay! Oh my gosh I’m shaking I’m so excited,” Poppy cried, absentmindedly clutching onto Branch’s arm and squeezing tightly, rocking him back and forth in her excitement.

Branch felt his face grow cold as his stomach swirled around. He didn’t realize his skin was turning green with the way she shook him but it was disorienting.

“Poppy, you’re gonna make him throw up,” Thistle chidded.

“Sorry!” Poppy immediately let him go, her feet drumming the floor instead as she continued to giggle.

“Okay, you need to go get the excited energy out of you before you explode,” Thistle snorted. Branch groaned, cupping his gut as he reached for his drink.

“Good idea, I feel like I’m gonna burst! I’m gonna go sing some more! You wanna sing with me, Thistle?” Poppy asked eagerly, her hands splayed flat on the table as she leaned forward.

“Hah! Right here? Right now? No way,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I like to stay under the radar as much as possible, thank you very much.”

“Ugh, fiiiine,” Poppy drawled, jumping to her feet. She quickly ran off towards the karaoke stage and started to flip through songs, grasping the mic tightly in her hand.

“Staying here, Guy?” Thistle asked casually, picking up his drink.

“Honestly? My brain is kinda fried at the moment. Information overload,” Guy groaned, taking another swig of his drink as Poppy began to sing another classic disney song. “Maybe I’ll join her in a bit.”

“I think I’m going to need a hard scotch,” Thistle agreed with a nod. “The beer isn’t going to cut it tonight.”

“I’m up for shots. How about we just order a few rounds and get completely smashed?” Guy muttered.

“Hey, I still have to drive us home.”

“I’m up for it,” Branch maundered.

“You have class tomorrow, both of you,” Thistle scolded.

“So? I don’t give a shit right now, my brain needs a shutdown and restart,” he snorted, rubbing his temple.

“Eeehh, actually I probably shouldn’t get smashed, Thistle’s right. I have my modeling job tomorrow on top of classes,” Guy sighed. “You guys get smashed though, I’ll just finish this one,” he said, swirling his glass and swishing the remaining liquid inside.

“I’m just having one, maybe two scotches. That’s it,” Thistle mumbled, raising his hand and waving a waiter over. “One or two won’t kill us.”

“I’m not stopping at two,” Branch growled, sinking back into his seat as he stared at his empty cup.

 _“No chance, no way, I won’t say it no, no,”_ Poppy’s voice floated over to them. _“This scene won’t play, I won’t say I’m in looooooove!”_

The waiter came by and Thistle quickly ordered a couple rounds for all three of them, even as Guy protested. The waiter was gone in moments, heading to the bar with the order.

“Hell, Poppy can drive us home if we get wasted,” Branch chuckled.

“Like fuck I am letting her drive my Aston Martin,” Thistle countered in a heartbeat.

“She’s a good driver,” Guy defended her. “You really wanna drive under the influence?”

“ _No one touches my fucking car_ ,” Thistle snarled, his blue eyes piercing. Guy put his hands up in defense and shrugged.

“Fine, fine, whatever man,” he chuckled.

“I mean, I’d let you maybe, since you’ve driven a high ends sports car before. Branch, too, even though he doesn’t ever fucking drive his own fucking car and he drives like a grandma.”

“Hey! That thing is too high profile!” Branch snapped immediately. “You think I’m going to drive a million dollar car to school? How is that keeping a fucking low profile?”

“Wait, you have a _car?”_ Guy blinked in shock. “What kind?”

Branch grimaced, leaning back and clamping his mouth shut.

“Theo, what car does he have?” Guy demanded, looking at Thistle.

“He’s got an Aston Martin too,” Thistle shrugged. “But he’s also got a Mercedes and Ferrari and... well, we have a lot of fucking cars back in the garage but we prefer the black ones,” he smirked at the inside joke.

“You have more than _one?!”_ Guy’s mouth dropped. “D—dude, can I ride in them? Please? Pretty please with glitter and rainbows and a cherry on top?!”

Branch shrugged uncaringly. “I don’t fucking drive ‘em, get the keys and go to my dad’s place and knock yourself out.” Thistle snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Duuuuuuuuuuuuude,” Guy was ecstatic. “Thanks! Awh man, I’m gonna make some sweet first impressions tomorrow! Not that my mustang wasn’t already sweet, I love my baby, but a _Ferrari?_ I _gotta_ take that for a spin.”

“Coming from a rich family has its perks, I guess,” Thistle shrugged. “I usually have to drive them to make sure they don’t rot in the garage.”

Branch made a disgusted loud snort, glaring at the graining of the wood on the table.

“Don’t I know it, my dad has a collection of cars,” Guy sighed. “Won’t let me touch them though, or any of my siblings for that matter.”

Branch’s face suddenly scrunched up as an epiphany hit him. “On second thought, scratch that,” he muttered glancing over to the karaoke station and the girl singing there. “I don’t want Poppy to know about our family, how the fuck are you going to write off suddenly pulling up in a Ferrari?”

Thistle frowned, raising an eyebrow and his mouth daring to open and speak but he decided against it a moment later. The waiter returned that very moment, putting the shots on the table before leaving again.

“Yeah, Theo mentioned you didn’t want people to know your dad is Richard Oak. Which is… fuckin’ crazy, man,” Guy snorted. Then he paused and turned to Thistle. “Wait, man, do you want me to keep calling you Theo or Thistle?”

“You just called me Thistle like a minute ago,” Thistle questioned, confused.

“I know. I keep going back and forth, which do you want me to actually refer to you as?”

“I’m more used to Thistle,” he admitted with a shrug. “But Theo doesn’t bother me, I actually kind of like it…” he murmured thoughtfully and looking away. “So long as you don’t call me Theodore. Only my dad get’s away with that one because I can’t bitch about it.”

“Noted. How’d you get the nickname Thistle anyway?” Guy asked, curious.

Thistle made a face, scratching his neck.

Branch huffed, leaning back as he got his scotch and glared at the ice cubes.

“Well, it’s a pretty long story…”

“No it’s not,” Branch snapped after taking a sip and looking straight at Guy. “When we were kids, the other kids used to make fun of my name and my brother here—” he said jerking the cup in Thistle’s direction—, “used to defend me and get into fights because of it. To stop them making fun of me he insisted they call him a plant name too. So, smart little twats that a bunch of prick kids are, shoved his first name and middle name together and, because he used to wear purple a lot, started calling him ‘Thistle’ and it stuck.”

“Not to mention I was very ‘prickly’, temper wise, so it matched,”  Thistle shrugged.

“‘Was’? You still fucking are,” Branch snorted as he finished the burning alcohol with a groan and picked up another of the glasses.

Guy chuckled and downed one of the shot glasses, hissing after he gulped it down. Poppy was still singing her heart out to the music, and would most likely not stop any time soon. Guy looked at her for a moment before glancing at Branch with a squint.

“So how does Poppy _not_ know you’re really an ‘Oak’?” he asked, confused. “You guys have known each other since middle school, right?”

Branch paled.

“Nope, elementary. All three of us went to the same private school up till middle school when they both changed to public,” Thistle corrected.

“So you’ve been keeping this a secret since you were in _kindergarten?_ ” Guy was bewildered.

Branch puffed out his cheeks, letting out a long breath. “Yes. Our dads don’t exactly like each other and...” he looked away, fidgeting. “She was my friend, I didn’t want her to hate me if she knew who my dad was.” Thistle watched with a skeptical expression.

“Uhuh… huh… Look, Poppy isn’t _dense_ by any means so that strikes me as a little odd that she hasn’t found out by now,” Guy said, scratching his head.

Branch gulped, looking up with wide horrified eyes.

“I agree,” Thistle said unapologetically. “Poppy isn’t stupid, sure she can be a little naive but she isn’t stupid. There are too many things that just add up other than our last names, I think she knows just honestly doesn’t care.”

“That sounds like Poppy,” Guy agreed.

Thistle was nodding, picking up another drink as Branch stared bewildered, his brain racing as he squinted his eyes down at his new drink.

It made sense... he _supposed_. But was there really anything wrong with hoping that she didn’t _know?_ Why wouldn’t she have said anything all these years? And then there was her dad… Would her dad _really_ have let her be friends with them if _he_ knew? It just didn’t make sense! Unless she never told him? But why would she do that?

“Ugh,” he groaned, shaking his head and lifting up the scotch to his mouth and quickly swallowing it down with one gulp. It burned and the alcohol settled heavily in his stomach and a rush of tingling went to his skull making it feel lightheaded.

“Branch... watch it, you’re going to get drunk.”

“Fuck it,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “She doesn’t fucking know, how could she? It makes no fuckin’ sense,” he slurred the last word as his vision danced a little and he vaguely realized he heard no more music or Poppy’s voice.

“Hey, maybe Poppy doesn’t, who knows?” Guy shrugged. “I just think it’s weird if she doesn’t.”

“If I don’t know what?” Poppy’s voice sounded from right next to the table as she suddenly appeared again.

Branch stiffened, letting out a dry cough as he glanced at her. “Nothin’.”

“Guys,” Poppy’s shoulders slumped. “Come on, what is it? Why won’t you guys tell me anything?”

Branch glared at the other two with a heavy and stern gaze, keeping his mouth shut.

“...Eh, it’s nothing really,” Guy said finally, shrugging. “Pester Branch about it, not me.”

Branch clamped his lips shut even tighter, rolling them into his mouth till they vanished as he refused to speak.

Thistle huffed agitated, tired of this shit.

“Poppy, do you know who our dad is?” he asked straight out and impassively.

Branch's eyes bulged and he let out a squeak of horror. His foot kicking out and hitting a leg under the table.

“Ow!” Thistle barked, jumping in his seat.

“...Uh, yeah?” Poppy snorted, raising a bewildered eyebrow. Guy threw his hands into the air.

“There you go!” he cried.

“What?!” Branch cried, looking at her mortified. “You _know?_ ”

“Yyyyyeeeeeaaaaah?” Poppy drawled out with a giggle, looking down at him strangely. “Dude, we’ve been friends since we were five. I met him once during a field trip, you know, parents day thing? I think it was second grade.”

Branch stared with unblinking eyes, mind boggled.

“How... when… How is it—Then why do you talk to us!? Our dad’s hate each other!” he squeaked. What the fuck was he saying? Was he _trying_ to get her to see reason and ignore him forever? His stomach sank with the idea.

“Uh... Yeah, just because they have rival businesses doesn’t mean _we_ can’t get along, you dork,” Poppy giggled, poking his forehead. “My dad encouraged it, if anything.”

“Hah! I _knew_ it,” Thistle laughed, smirking. Branch still hadn’t blinked once.

“What, did you think I _didn’t_ know?” Poppy asked Branch, bewildered.

He finally blinked, casting his eyes down at his empty drink. “Uh... yeah? I hoped,” he muttered quietly, completely lost and overwhelmed. Years of secrecy and avoiding the subject suddenly coming down on him as pointless.

“I mean… I knew you didn’t like talking about your dad so I never asked about him or anything, and I knew you didn’t want anyone _else_ to know, but that’s kinda silly you didn’t think _I_ knew, Branch,” Poppy giggled, poking his head again as she sat down next to him.

Arms suddenly enveloped Branch’s sides and he stiffened as Poppy hugged him. “Dork,” she grinned, rubbing his arm affectionately.

He gulped, completely in shock as his brain tried to register this new reality.

His hand seemed to know exactly what to do, because it reached for another drink. He swung his head back and quickly downed it, the liquid burned and hit his stomach like a pile of rocks. He coughed, smacking the glass on the table.

“I’m a fuckin’ idiot,” he croaked dizzily, eyes upturned to the ceiling and getting glassy.

Thistle snorted, shaking his head.

 


End file.
